Around the Bend
by WritePassion
Summary: A Thanksgiving spent with family and friends turns tragic, and everyone Sam counted on as always being there to get through the hard times is gone. Will he survive on his own? Will an alliance with another spy prove to be his undoing, or get him around the bend?
1. Chapter 1

_Burn Notice: I don't own it, I just like to play with it._

**Around the Bend**

By WritePassion

Thanksgiving was a time to count blessings and be grateful for the good things that happened in the past year. While there were some tragedies, including the death of Michael's brother Nate, the team finally had one good thing to celebrate: the people who burned Michael were gone, everyone from Carla to Card. A new phase of his life was beginning, and he and Fiona looked forward to it with joy and a little apprehension. None of them knew what the future held, if they would go back to helping the average guy with a problem, or if Michael would return to the CIA. With time on his hands and nothing pressing, Michael took Sam's advice: he would sit on the decision over the next couple of months and sort it out.

The little party at Carlito's ended at a decent hour. Jesse had a job to take care of the next day, so he made a short night of it. He took Maddie home, which left Sam and Elsa alone. They followed Michael and Fiona to the parking lot. Everyone felt good about the future and they celebrated it, but they were always cautious. No one knew what might come around the bend.

"Hey, we'll see you guys tomorrow for breakfast, okay?" Sam called over three cars parked between the Cadillac and Charger.

"Sounds good." Michael replied with a smile.

"Feels good to not have a job for awhile, huh." Sam grinned at him.

Michael chuckled. "I don't know what I'm going to do with myself. I've forgotten what it's like to be idle for any length of time."

"Well then, that proves it. You needed this," Elsa said, and she got into the passenger side of Sam's car.

"She's right, Mikey. Have a good night, and we'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you then."

Sam went around to the driver's side and hesitated with his hand on the door handle. A strange feeling came over him, and he glanced up over the roof to watch his friends drive away. A chill rushed up his spine but it wasn't cold outside. Later on, he would wonder if it was a premonition and he wished he'd said something – wished he'd given them a more proper goodbye. He shook away the anxiety, got in, and drove them back to Elsa's house.

That infernal beeping was going to drive Sam nuts if it didn't stop. He tried to concentrate past it and his ears picked up other sounds. Voices spoke far away. A shoe squeaked on the floor. Metal clattered and echoed down a hall. His fingers brushed the surface beneath him and he detected the low thread count of the linens. He wasn't in his own bed, that was for sure. He would have heard Elsa breathing beside him, unless it was daytime and he was only napping. It didn't smell like Elsa's bedroom or the hotel room. Something was definitely off here. Sam opened his eyes just a bit. A light over the bed illuminated the room along with sunlight coming through the slits in the closed blinds. It didn't take long to figure out that he was in a hospital, and he was a patient. The bigger question was, why?

How did I wind up here? Think, what was the last thing you remember doing? His mind was a jumble and nothing became clear. He knew enough to realize that whoever put him there had him on some heavy drugs, and that was probably preventing him from focusing. Elsa. Where was she? How long had he been there? Too many questions darting around in his tired mind. Unable to cope, he shut down and fell back into unconsciousness.

"Mr. Axe? Mr. Axe, can you hear me?"

He opened his heavy eyelids and took notice of a woman with clear dark skin and flowing black hair, wearing a nice blouse and a straight skirt, standing before him. A stethoscope hung around her neck with a lanyard, and at the end of the metal clip, a plastic ID badge. Dr. Stacy Estevez.

"How are you feeling today, Mr. Axe?" Her voice had a tinge of an accent.

"I... I don't know. What am I doing here?"

"You still don't remember what happened?" The doctor looked a little worried, when he could see her face clearly. He blinked when she shone a light in his eyes. She shook her head and made some notes on a chart, then glanced at the screen next to his bed. She flipped through the papers on the clipboard and read something before turning back to him. "I'm going to have Dr. Brady come and talk to you. He should be here soon."

"Who's Dr. Brady?"

"Dr. Brady is a psychologist. He'll talk to you about what happened, Mr. Axe." She turned at the sound of a knock on the door frame. "Good timing, Doctor!" She patted Sam's arm and said, "I'll be back tonight to check on you. Have a good day, Mr. Axe."

"Yeah, thanks." The word triggered something in his memory, but it was gone in an instant. His eyes roved from the other doctor to a board on the wall. In neat red printing, someone wrote the date. It was November 26. Thanksgiving was almost a week earlier. He knew that much. His eyelids felt too heavy to keep open, so he closed them. He lay unmoving and listened to the muffled conversation on the other side of the room.

"He should have been able to remember something by now," Dr. Estevez whispered. "He didn't have that much of the drug in his system."

"Maybe the head injury was worse than we first thought," Dr. Brady suggested.

"We have to run another CAT scan to see if there's progress anyway. I'll have them look at that section again."

"Good plan. I'll let you know what we talk about," Dr. Brady said, ending the conversation and stepping into the room. "Mr. Axe, are you awake?"

"Mm, yeah." Sam opened his eyes and looked up at the tall, well-built black man. "Why wouldn't that other doctor tell me why I'm here?"

"She wants me to talk to you about that. Mind if I sit awhile?"

"Go right ahead, as long as I get some answers outta this."

Dr. Brady pulled a chair close to the bed, sat in it, and rested his own version of Sam's chart on his knee. "Can you tell me your name?"

"That's easy. Sam Axe. I live in Miami, in my girlfriend Elsa's hotel, although lately I've been staying at her house, and..."

"That's fine, Mr. Axe." Dr. Brady smiled, showing a set of straight, healthy teeth. "I'd like to go over a few things."

Dr. Brady had a lot of questions, and Sam had almost all the answers. However, when the doctor asked what happened the night of November 22th, he had no clue. "It was... Thanksgiving day." He tried to remember what he'd done. "Elsa and I got up, took a walk, had breakfast, spent some time with her son Evan, had some alone time..." He smiled at the memory. "Then we went out with friends... but after that, everything's a blank. I know I didn't drink much that night. Did we crash?"

"Yes, you did. You don't remember that part?"

Sam shook his head. "No. I think... I think I remember saying goodbye to Mike and Fi. Yeah, I do. I got in the car, but something wasn't... ahh, I don't know. It's not coming back to me!" He stopped speaking and as the silence deepened he grew more frustrated. His right hand balled into a fist and he pounded it into the mattress, but a shooting pain kept him from hitting it as hard as he would have liked. Sam looked down at his hand, then brought it up and flexed and tightened it.

"You'll be a little sore for awhile."

Sam noted bandages on his wrist and arm, and his curiosity forced him to pull at the dressings. Dr. Brady stood and put a hand on his to get him to stop. "You shouldn't be doing that, Mr. Axe."

"Why not? I wanna know what happened to me! Why won't anyone tell me?" He pulled out of Brady's grip and one of the bandages fell away to reveal a deep gash on his forearm. Ugly stitches closed it, but the flesh around it was swollen and red yet.

"We were hoping you could tell us, but apparently your memory of that night hasn't returned." He removed the rest of the bandages and made a mental note to tell the nurse to re-dress the wounds after their session.

Sam was usually good at curbing intense emotions when necessary, but he felt a rising tide that was so big, he feared that he couldn't defeat it. He felt an overwhelming desire to cry and he held it off by sheer will.

Dr. Brady sighed and sat down again. "Sam, you were in an accident." When he had his patient's complete attention with eyes full of disbelief trained on him, the doctor continued. "According to the police, you and your girlfriend Elsa were riding in a car, and you went through a red light. The other driver had also been impaired and was traveling at a high rate of speed when he broadsided your vehicle on the passenger side." Dr. Brady paused and looked from the paperwork to Sam. "If he'd been going any faster, you wouldn't be here right now."

The reality of what Dr. Brady was saying hit Sam like a giant wave that crashed into him and dragged him down to the bottom of the sea. "Elsa..."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Axe... Sam." Dr. Brady blinked. "She's dead."

"No. No, that... that can't be. You're lying." A trap door opened beneath him and he felt himself falling through it into a cold, empty unknown.

"I wish I was." He looked at his distressed patient with pity.

"I want to see Elsa. Now!" He felt like he couldn't breathe and that the ceiling was crashing down on him.

"You can't. She's gone, Sam."

Panic etched into his features and he began to babble. "No, this can't be happening. I would never drive drunk. I know I wasn't drunk that night! Everything else is a blur, but that much I know. I would never do anything to hurt Elsa!"

Dr. Brady stood and used his powerful arms to hold Sam down, but the older man was stronger than he anticipated. Sam got off a good left hook and smashed his fist against the doctor's face. He pulled the lines out with his action, and alarm bells going off caused a flurry from the staff.

"Doctor!"

"Get something to calm him down, right now!"

Within seconds, the nurse injected something into Sam, but it wasn't easy. And he refused to go down easy, too. He cried and thrashed and denied that anything they were telling him was the truth. "Get Mike in here, he'll tell you. I would never... never do anything..." He drifted off into a sedated state, and the nurse cleaned up the mess Sam made.

Dr. Brady patted his arm, not holding Sam's violence against him. "We'll talk later, Sam."

In the afternoon the doctor returned. Sam didn't say much. Brady saw him holding back his anger, his jaw working, the muscles tense. It was probably best for him to do the talking and if Sam felt like interjecting, he would. He paused, glanced down at the chart balancing on his knee, and returned his gaze to his patient. "When you were brought here, a battery of toxicology tests were run because you weren't impaired enough from drinking to have caused you to black out or stop where you did. The results came back today."

"What did they say?"

"You had an unidentified drug in your system. Were you taking anything, prescription-wise or... illegal?"

"The only thing I ever imbibe in is alcohol. I hardly ever take an aspirin, just ask Elsa..." His voice tapered off and he shielded his eyes with his wrist. He didn't want to answer any more of this man's questions. He just wanted to be left alone to mourn.

"Perhaps as you regain your memory, you'll be able to recall more details of what happened before the accident. Until then, these results will be going to the police for their investigation."

"I don't understand." Sam pressed himself into the mattress and stared at him. "What investigation?"

"Depending upon what they find, Sam, you could be charged with manslaughter or reckless homicide."

Sam didn't know what was going on, but it seemed as if his life was spiraling out of control at an alarming rate. If only he could remember what happened! Every time he tried, he saw vague shadows of an evening spent in some restaurant. The mojitos were always good there, but he restrained himself that night because he was driving. "How'd I remember that?"

"What, Sam?"

He told Dr. Brady what came back to him. "We were at Car... yeah, Carlitio's. Elsa and me, and my friends Michael Westen and Fiona Glenanne." He scrunched up his face. "Yeah, and Jesse... Jesse Porter was there, but he left early with Maddie, Mike's mom. It was the four of us, having some drinks and relaxing."

"What did you drink?"

"I had two mojitos all night, as far as I know. But there was something funny about that second one. I didn't even finish it. It was like there was too much mint in it." His eyes widened. "How can I bring that all back like it just happened, and I can't remember what happened after?"

While Sam related what he could, Dr. Brady wrote furiously on a legal pad. "Some of this might be very helpful in determining what impaired you. Is there anything else?"

"Not at the moment, but if I think of something, I'll let you know, Doc." His body felt so weak again. "I think I need a nap."

"That's okay. I'm sure you need it now." Dr. Brady stood and patted Sam's shoulder. "I'll come back later and we'll talk again if you feel like it."

"Maybe after some sleep I'll find some more." He closed his eyes briefly, opened them and asked, "Do you know where Mike and Fi are? If they knew I was in here, I would think they'd come to see me."

"I'll check on that. Rest now, Sam." He stepped back from the bed and left the room.

Sam felt a wave of tiredness roll over him. His right leg itched, but when he reached out to try to scratch it, he discovered that he couldn't move his leg without a shooting pain running up the nerves to his brain. It took his breath away and he fell back against the pillows and grimaced until it was over. The movement caused something to beep faster, and a nurse came in to check on him.

"The doctor said you could have something for that pain," she said.

Sam watched her prepare the syringe and stick it into the port, and in a few minutes he wasn't feeling a thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

For three days, the only people Sam saw, when he was awake and not enveloped in a morphine-induced fog, were doctors and nurses. He was supposed to be getting better, but he had trouble moving, especially his legs. When the doctor told him that his spinal cord had been bruised in the impact and that it would take time for it to heal, he assured Sam that he would walk again. It might just take a lot of physical therapy.

At the moment, it was the mental part of him that he worried about more. Bits and pieces of that tragic night came back, and every time he remembered another part, he suffered a new round of sadness over losing Elsa. If he'd been in his right mind, he never would have run a red light, unless he was in pursuit of someone, and even then, he wouldn't have done it so carelessly or with Elsa in the car. What was wrong with him? If only Mike and Fi would come visit, he was certain that they could help him fill in some blanks. At the very least, their company might help put him on the road to recovery. But no one seemed to know where the two were. He tried calling Mike's phone, and then Fi's, but neither of them answered. Maybe what he'd done so disgusted them that they couldn't stand to be around him.

For the first time since he arrived in Miami, Sam felt the heavy burden of loneliness pressing in on him. He needed contact with someone he knew and loved, and maybe they could help him sort through this. He tried Maddie's number and got her voice mail, so he left a short message telling her where he was and asking her to visit. From someplace back in the recesses of his mind Sam remembered that Jesse was on a job. Getting a hold of him would be a long-shot.

"Hello," Jesse said when he answered his phone.

In relief Sam breathed, "Jesse, thank God I finally got a real person. I thought you were out of the country."

"Yeah, that job finished up and I just came back yesterday." He paused, and his voice took on a concerned tone. "Sam, are you okay?"

"Uh, not really. I'm at Mercy. I've been here for, what, a week, I think?" He shook his head. "I don't know. I can't remember half of what happened the last time we were all together, and I can't get a hold of Mike or Fi to see what they know." He stopped himself before panic overtook him. His breathing slowed and he added, "Jesse, Elsa's dead and Mike and Fi... I don't know if they're upset with me and that's why they haven't been around..."

"Calm down, Sam." Jesse's voice was even and soothing. "I know... My boss told me when I got back to town. It was all over the news, man."

"What? What happened?"

"You were driving and got broadsided when you went through a red light. A witness said he didn't think you were driving drunk. You just kinda slumped over the wheel and went into the intersection. Elsa was killed and you barely escaped with your life." He let out a breath. "I can't get a hold of Michael and Fiona either, so don't think they're ignoring you. Everywhere I could think of, I looked: the loft, Maddie's, even some of our safe houses. Maddie hasn't seen them either, and she's worried sick. It's like they just went off the grid."

"Why?" Sam asked as an icy fear gripped him. "You don't think they did something... oh, no, no, Jesse, they'd never..."

"You think they did something to hurt you?" By the tone of Jesse's voice, Sam knew he wouldn't believe that their friends were behind everything. The idea was insane, but when you've been in the business as long as Sam, sometimes your mind goes places you don't want it to go.

Sam continued. "Of course not them, but somebody sure did. My second mojito tasted odd, so I never finished it."

"I remember that," Jesse said. "I thought it was weird that you let it just sit there."

"Now you know why. But if someone put something in it to disorient me, that could explain how I wound up where I did," Sam speculated.

"That's possible. Where'd you say you are now?"

"Mercy Hospital."

Jesse let out a breath, paused, and spoke with a tone of urgency. "Okay, I'll be there in a little while."

"Thanks, Jesse." After he got off the phone, Sam fell asleep. It was the first good rest he'd had since he came out of his drugged state. When he heard Jesse softly call his name awhile later, he awoke and gave him a big smile. "You don't know how glad I am to see somebody I know!" He restrained himself from sitting up and reaching for Jesse. He didn't want his friend to think he was that needy, even if he wished for some kind of physical contact from someone besides a doctor or nurse.

"Looks like they're taking good care of you in here." Jesse glanced around at the equipment and things hanging around Sam's bed. "You've really been out of it all this time, and you don't remember anything?"

Sam gave him an injured look. "It's not like I'm trying to hide the truth, Jesse. I just don't know. I can remember everything up to shortly after that second mojito that I didn't finish, and then everything is either fuzzy or a blank until I woke up here."

Looking deep in thought, Jesse finally spoke. "I'm going to Carlito's and see if I can talk to the people who were working that night. Maybe somebody spiked your drink with something and thought they were getting Mike's. I don't know. There's not a lot to work with right now."

"I realize that. I keep trying to grab onto bits and pieces that come back. So far, not much luck." Sam shifted and a stab of pain assaulted him. By now they'd given him control of the morphine, but he held off. He needed his mind to be clear. "I really wish I could get out of here, but right now I have no idea where I'd go. With Elsa dead, Mike and Fi MIA, and Maddie won't return my calls..." A heavy sigh escaped him. "I'm basically homeless."

"I'd invite you to stay with me, but I've just got one bedroom, and the couch isn't fit for anybody to sleep on. Especially not you in your condition." Jesse shrugged. "Sorry."

"It's not your fault, Jesse." Sam turned his head toward the window and looked out at the bright blue sky with white puffy clouds floating past. The beautiful scene taunted him. He wished he could go outside, but the idea was as as plausible as a dream. For the time being, he was imprisoned by the hospital bed. "I'll figure out something eventually when they release me."

"Yeah." By the way he sighed, Sam knew that Jesse felt uncomfortable for having to turn him away. "I'll, uh, get to work on unraveling this mystery, and maybe I can find Mike and Fi. You concentrate on getting back on your feet."

"I will. Thanks, Jesse." Sam turned back to him and tried to keep his voice free of the depression that threatened to overtake him. He missed his friends and he missed Elsa even more. "I wish... never mind." I wish I could take back whatever I did that caused me to do something so stupid. If I was the reason for Mike and Fi disappearing, whatever brought that about, I'd take it back too. I want everything to go back to the way it was!

After Jesse was gone, Sam picked up his phone and tried Maddie again. Her perky voice said, "It's Madeline, leave a message."

He didn't know what else he could say that he hadn't already said. "Maddie, it's Sam. Please call me. If you're mad at me, tell me why, because I sure as hell have no idea. I've lost some of my memory, and I'm stuck in this bed and can't get around right now. I need..." He choked back the emotion. "I need some family right now and I've got nobody." That was probably the wrong thing to say. "I'm sorry, Maddie. If you don't want me to call anymore, just let me know. Thanks. Bye."

That short one-sided conversation took a lot out of him. Sam lay his head back on the pillow and worked up the courage to call the next number. He'd been holding off until he had answers or at least a memory of what happened, but it still hadn't come back.

"Hello, this is Evan."

"Evan. It's... it's Sam." It took everything in him to keep his composure. "Uh, I don't know what to say, son..."

"I'm not your son." Raw anger oozed out of every syllable as Evan spoke. "You're the guy who killed my mom, and I never wanna hear your voice or see you again."

Sam couldn't blame Evan for hurting, and knowing he was responsible stuck him like a knife. Sam pleaded, "Ev, please, just do one thing for me?"

Evan interrupted him. "Your stuff is packed up and ready to be shipped out. I was just gonna toss it all, but my mom would have been ticked at me if I did. So where do you want it?"

"I don't know." Sam swallowed. "I'm still in the hospital, and I've got nowhere to go after I get out. I suppose you could put it in my storage locker."

Evan let out a breath. Then, to Sam's surprise, he showed him some mercy as his tone softened a bit and he said, "I'll need the key."

Sam replied, trying not to sound too eager to see him. "I've got it on my keyring. You'll have to come here to the hospital to get it."

A long silence followed. "Okay, fine. I'll come and get the key and move your crap to your storage place. After that, I don't want to have anything to do with you."

"I understand. Under the circumstances, I wouldn't want anything to do with me either." Sam thought it was true enough even if it did sound like he was fishing for sympathy.

"Don't try to get me to sympathize. It won't work." Evan grumbled and cut the connection.

In less than a half hour Evan arrived to pick up the key. He found it in Sam's things in the closet, took the entire ring and mumbled something about returning them when he was done. Sam didn't even get a chance to say anything to him. He felt tired again but he vowed to stay awake until Evan returned. He wanted to know what Elsa's son knew about the incident. Maybe it would help him remember.

To Sam's disappointment, Evan volunteered only what he'd heard from the police and the news. No one had the missing pieces for him. Evan wanted to get out as fast as possible, so Sam nodded his thanks and the younger man turned on his heel and made a break for the door.

"Evan, wait."

For some reason, Evan stopped. He turned angry eyes on Sam. "What do you want?"

"What was the funeral like? Did you have it yet?"

"I wasn't going to wait for Mom's murderer to get healthy." Evan's stare could have burned a hole right through Sam. The look on his face turned thoughtful as he added in a softer tone, "It was nice, lots of people came and gave their respects and said they would miss her." Evan's voice cracked and he turned away and walked out the door.

Sam's voice came out hoarse and soft as he said, "I miss her, Ev." But Evan never heard him, and if he had, he might have busted him in the chops.

It would have been better if I died in that crash. But would anyone say nice things about me or miss me? He closed his eyes. A nagging sharp pain ran up his spine so Sam pressed the morphine button, and he concluded that no, no one cared except maybe Jesse. He thought of the cot that he kept in his storage locker for desperate times. If he ever made it out of the hospital, Sam suspected he would be sleeping there for awhile. Alone. It wasn't a very encouraging scenario.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Sam never thought the day would come when his spine injury healed enough so he could begin physical therapy. The VA hospital wasn't as nice as Mercy, but Sam didn't really care anyway. He was just there to get better. The swelling had gone down enough so most days he felt like someone jabbed him with pins and needles up and down his legs. The doctors took that as an encouraging sign. Sam thought it was just too annoying. Thankfully, they gave him something to dull the sensation, making it easier for him to try to become more mobile.

A month after the accident, he was wheeling himself around as if he'd been doing it all his life, but he wanted more. Living in the same room day after day drove him nearly insane with boredom, so the wheelchair gave him a small sense of freedom. He was happy to roll around the place and explore, and as he did so, he wished for his body to heal so he could walk everywhere. He'd taken that gift for granted, and now he wanted it back so badly, he would do just about anything to get it.

Jesse's occasional visits helped to break up the monotony. Madeline still had not called him back, so he concluded that she was angry with him. If Sam had anything to do with Mike and Fi disappearing, he couldn't blame her. He just wanted to know what he'd done. The memories still had not come back, and he probably would never recall them. That's why it was so important to get answers, because the lack of knowledge was killing him.

"Heyyy, Sam, look at you," Jesse said with a grin as he poked his head into a lounge and found Sam staring at the television in the corner that was tuned to a movie. "You've got wheels now."

Sam replied with a hint of sarcasm. "Yeah. About all it's good for is building my upper body strength. That might be critical for when I wind up on the streets and have to beat off the other bums, you know."

Jesse was taken aback by that statement. He scoffed. "Sam, you're not gonna wind up on the streets. Don't worry about it. We'll work out something."

"You said that about finding Mike and Fi, too." Sam looked up at him. "It's been, what, five weeks, Jesse, and what have you found? Nothing." He really hated himself for being so short with him, and he hung his head, studied his hands, and mumbled, "Sorry, Jess. That was uncalled for."

"It's okay..."

"No, it's not okay!" Sam looked up again with anguish in his expression. "You're the only one I've got, Jesse, and it's not fair for me to be dumping on you. It's my own fault. I created this mess, so I have only myself to blame."

"No, you didn't create this mess," Jesse responded with clenched teeth. He grabbed a chair, slid it beside the wheelchair, and he sat in it facing Sam. "You didn't do this. Someone drugged you, I know at least that much."

"How? Did someone at Carlito's talk?" In his eyes he displayed the first hope he'd felt in weeks.

Jesse shook his head and replied, "I had to bite the bullet and talk to the cops. The toxicology tests showed something like a knockout drug in your system. The lab didn't even know what it was, so it's gotta be something new."

"Who would have something like that," Sam asked.

"I don't know. Unfortunately, it couldn't be traced back to your glass at Carlito's because that, of course, was already washed. But given that that's where you were last before you wound up in the accident, it had to have come from there."

Sam leaned forward in his chair, risking falling out as he asked, "Did you get anything useful from anybody at Carlito's?"

"The staff didn't offer any help, but I talked to a guy who was there that night," Jesse told him. "He said you looked tired, but not impaired or drunk."

"If I passed out in the intersection, why didn't Elsa try to rouse me," Sam wondered aloud. It was a question that would never be answered because she was the only one who knew how to reply and she was gone.

"I'm waiting for permission to see the police report. From what I understand, there were witnesses, people who stopped at the light. Hopefully they can at least shed some light on your actions."

"It would be a relief to at least have that hole filled. I mean..." He shook his head at his poor choice of words.

"I'll let you know what I find, Sam."

"Thanks, Jesse."

A couple days later, Jesse returned with more news. He found Sam in the recreation room again, only he was attempting to read a book. The pain etched on his face told Jesse that he wasn't having a good day.

Feeling for his friend, Jesse put on a smile and asked, "Sam, what's up?"

"I think my PT got her degree at the CIA's school of torture. Not even Vicadin can cut the pain." He winced as he shifted in his chair.

Jesse encouraged him with a hand on his shoulder and his words. "Every day, just keep plugging away at it. You'll get better. I know you, you're not gonna let this get in your way."

Sam wore a look of discouragement as he asked, "Still no word from Mike and Fi?"

"No. Sorry, man. I talked to Maddie again, and the longer they're missing, the angrier she gets."

Sam hung his head. "Did you tell her I'm sorry?"

"I could tell her, but it won't matter. She's just eaten up with anger right now." Jesse sighed. "The more I look into this, the more I know it wasn't your fault." He waited until Sam leveled his gaze at him. "I got the autopsy report on Elsa. You weren't the only one with that drug in your system. She was impaired too, so the speculation is that when you passed out she was unconscious too. Neither of you could have prevented what happened. Somebody wanted you dead, and they were willing to take Elsa along with you." Jesse paused. "Or, the targets were really Mike and Fi, and maybe..."

"When they realized they failed, they kidnapped them," Sam finished. "Considering how many enemies Mike has had over the years, that wouldn't be too surprising."

"Yeah, and I'll be looking up a few of them." Jesse stood. "I hate to run, but you know I have to get started. The trail's already gone too cold."

Sam nodded, and his voice caught in his throat as he tried to speak, making Jesse stop and look down at him. Swallowing, Sam continued, "I understand. Be careful, Jesse. If something happened to you, I'd really be in trouble."

Jesse got down to eye level with him, and his own eyes bored into his. "Sam, you're stronger than that. I know. Just do your job and get on your feet, because man, I need you to help me with this."

"I'm trying, bro... Jess." As much as he liked Jesse as a friend, he would never have the bond that Michael shared with him.

"Good. Talk to you later." Jesse squeezed Sam's shoulder before he stood and walked out of the room with Sam watching him.

Jesse was right. He'd spent too much time wallowing in self-pity, and it was time to get back on his feet. The first step was getting over the pain and doing the exercises the therapist recommended he do when they weren't in session. Sam rolled to the workout room and found it empty except for one other person in a wheelchair. As he entered, he saw that it was a woman. She had her long dark hair twisted up and clipped to her head, and from behind she looked just like...

"Fi?"

The woman turned as if he'd fired a shot at her, and her hazel eyes were wide and full of suspicion. From that angle, she didn't look anything like Fiona, although the suspicion in her eyes was familiar. She dropped the weight she was lifting, and it clanged into its spot in the rack as she barked at him, "Who are you? What do you want?"

Sam tried one of his disarming smiles as he replied, "The name's Sam. Sam Axe. And you are?"

"None of your business." She turned her chair around and wheeled over to the exact machine that Sam considered using. She glared at him as if she expected him to protest.

Sam only shrugged and waited for her.

"I really wish you wouldn't sit there ogling me," she ground out through clenched teeth. She set the weight and carefully moved herself from the chair to the seat.

She wasn't gorgeous, but she certainly wasn't a hag, either. He watched her profile as she worked out, studying the graceful forehead wrinkled in concentration, her nose with its gentle slope over a pair of thin lips that pursed as she struggled, and her chin quivered as she pushed out one last repetition. Somehow, he had a feeling that she did that a lot. Her hostility probably stemmed from her current situation and the frustration of a body failing her. Sam knew that feeling.

Miss None of Your Business turned to see him watching. "You're still here. You must be pretty bored."

"Nope, just waiting my turn," he said with a thin smile.

"Have fun. I'm finished," she said. She returned to her chair, swiped off the machine's seat with a towel, and mopped her face with the back of her arm. She got out of his way and in what Sam considered retaliation, sat and watched him work.

It would probably kill him, but Sam moved the pin to the next ten pounds over what she selected. He was being stupid, but he had an overwhelming desire to show her she wasn't all that. There were other people hurting too, so she had no business taking it out on him or anyone else. Whatever happened to her must have been recent, because he remembered in the early days of his recovery at Mercy that he was angry too. In time, she would get over it.

"You know..." Sam spoke as he pushed the weight with his legs and the screaming pain made him think he would fall over, but he endured it. "If you're not gonna tell me your name.. I might have to just make up one for you." He caught a breath and continued. "Since it looks like we'll be seeing each other more around here... it would be nice to at least say hello... and have a name to go along with it."

"Don't strain yourself," she advised in a clipped tone.

"I have every intention of straining myself, sister, if it gets me out of here." He let out a groan as he finished another rep. His breath came in shallow pants and sweat broke out all over. An excruciating, searing pain ran from his legs upward, but deep down he felt like it was helping too, so he kept going with one more repetition. "So, Diana, what happened... ah... to you?" He let the weight drop and grabbed his towel. "What brought you here?" He turned and saw her mouth agape. "What? Did I say something?"

"How'd you know my name?"

Sam grinned. "Are you telling me I guessed right, that your name really is Diana? Wow, I didn't know I was psychic!" He chuckled.

"Diana Cole." She volunteered her complete name with surprise in her tone.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Diana Cole. Too bad it had to be in here." He seated himself in his chair, wheeled over to her and offered her a hand. When she took it, he asked, "What branch of the service were you in?"

"Navy," she replied simply, a part of her still stubbornly closed off to him.

"Well, how about that! We've got something in common!" He turned toward the door and beckoned her to follow. "Come on, Di, let's go get something to drink." She didn't move. "Hey, you've gotta hydrate or you'll be sorry later."

Diana grumbled and pushed her chair forward. "I'll have you know Axe..."

"Lieutenant Commander Axe, if you're gonna be that way about it." He replied in a snarky tone, because two could play that game. "How far did you get?"

"I was a Lieutenant," she admitted, but wouldn't volunteer any more. "Listen, I'm not here to make friends. I just want to get better, and then..."

They rolled down the hall side by side, and he glanced at her as he spoke. "Oh yeah, you've got the same future plans that I have. No friends, just get out of the chair. I think you and I are going to be quite the pair around here, a force to be reckoned with." He laughed for the first time in a long while. For some odd reason, her wave of negativity brought something out in him. A protectiveness. He didn't know why. He just knew that he wanted to keep her from going over the edge that he'd found himself on when he banded with Michael.

She looked at him, her face a study in indecision. At the cafeteria door she spoke softly and leaned closer to him. Sam had seen it before, the kind of intensity that her eyes expressed and cut the air between them like a carbon steel blade. No doubt she believed what she said. "When I get out of here, I'm going to find out who burned me and then kill them, do to them what they did to me first, and watch them squirm as they die."

Sam gaped as she passed through the door and didn't bother to see if he followed. Oh great, another burned spy. If I could, I'd be sprinting now before I get in too deep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

A burned spy had turned his life upside down before, so Sam wasn't quite ready to take that ride again. He hesitated to blame his current situation on his relationship with Michael Westen, but if they hadn't been friends, who knows where he would have been that Thanksgiving night. One thing was for sure, despite everything he'd endured the past seven years: if it hadn't been for Michael, he probably would have drunk himself to death or been emotionally bankrupt from too many sugar mommies long before the accident. So as aggravating as the trouble was, he'd come out better for it in the end.

Can't think about going through that again with Diana. He felt as fragile as an egg, and his desire to protect himself physically, mentally, and emotionally overrode any other need. If it meant isolating himself for awhile and closing himself off from everybody who posed a risk, he would do it.

He ditched Diana and retreated to the recreation room. He would be glad for the day when he could do something as simple as get into the shower by himself and not worry about collapsing like a marionette with its strings cut. So close, just another few weeks of working hard every day and he would have it. He was certain. Then he could start thinking about his life post-hospital, find a place to live and figure out what to do next.

Sam missed the days when he helped Michael and Fiona with cases from ordinary people who had problems they couldn't handle themselves and the cops didn't care to investigate. Maybe he could go back to that. He wasn't sure he could do it alone, but until he found his friends he didn't have much choice. It wouldn't be easy. If he intended to survive he had to do something, because his pension wouldn't be enough for him to stay afloat in Miami. After losing Elsa, he wasn't anywhere near ready to find himself another sugar mommy. With Elsa he'd gone beyond that, and look what it got her. He put her life in danger and ultimately killed her.

That reminded him of what the doctor at Mercy Hospital said. So far the cops hadn't come bearing handcuffs, so maybe he was in the clear. Perhaps Jesse was able to prove that he didn't do it intentionally and he wasn't responsible for his actions because someone drugged him. Whatever the case, he pushed that to the back of his mind. Getting better was top priority at the moment.

Sam heard music before he rolled into the recreation room, and he found more patients than usual inside. A small group of young men and women stood at one end of the room singing carols from the books in front of them, creating a beautiful sound in four part harmony with twenty people. Sam scowled, mentally calculating how long he'd been out of commission and realizing that it was Christmas. Glancing at his watch, he saw the date on it confirmed the truth. He stayed to listen even though the songs reminded him of the plans he and Elsa had for the holiday. She was going to take him to Colorado to go skiing, something he'd never done before. That trip was a no-go now, and staring at his stubborn legs only pounded that fact deeper into his head.

Diana wheeled into the recreation room and Sam slunk down into his chair and tried to hide his face from her. He didn't need to deal with a psycho woman right now. Maybe not psycho, exactly, but she had… issues. Things he didn't want to deal with. He had trouble handling his own.

She's a burned spy, for crying out loud. God only knows who's after her. I might as well jump out the window right now and end it all if I even think I'm going to get involved with another spy. Not even friends. It just can't be done.

"Hi. I lost you in the cafeteria," she whispered as she stopped near him holding out a bottle of juice. He didn't respond and kept his attention on the carolers. She shook it in his line of sight and declared, "Wow, I never would have guessed you were into choirs."

"You don't know anything about me, and I don't know anything about you," Sam said as he glanced over his shoulder. "Let's keep it that way. It's easier for everybody."

"Jeez, and I was just going to apologize for being so crabby before. Sorry to have bothered you," Diana snapped while dropping the bottle in his lap. She spun her chair in a tight circle and rolled out the door.

He really didn't want to be so short with her. From deep in his past the fear of abandonment came bubbling up and had been foremost in his mind the past few weeks. In his loneliness and uncertainty, he took it out on her. He knew that wasn't fair. Sam turned his chair around and pursued Diana. His logical side told him to let it go. His insecure side said that he couldn't leave her with a bad impression.

"Di, hold on. Please, stop." He called after her and propelled himself forward enough to catch up to her near the nurses' station. He reached out, grabbed her sleeve, and pulled. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so…."

"Snotty?"

The corner of his mouth tipped up as he snorted. "I wouldn't exactly say that, but, I suppose it was pretty close." He met her eyes and said, "I'm sorry. It's... it's complicated."

Diana replied with a scowl. "What's got you all defensive?"

"You're better off not knowing," he replied. "Otherwise, I could probably keep your ear bent for a few hours."

"I bet I could do the same to you." She took in a deep breath and let it out. "I suppose that's not unusual around here. Lots of damaged people." She glanced at the other patients in the hallway. There weren't many, but the few that sat around looked like they'd been there awhile and weren't happy about it. She continued, "I just wanna get healed physically, and, well, the mental part can sort itself out when I get a hold of the person who burned me."

"Trust me, Di, you're better off not going that route. I had a friend who was burned."

"Yeah, I'm familiar with Michael Westen." She nodded. "Every spy knows about how Superman fell, and now he's missing. Nobody knows where he is."

"Tell me about it." Sam huffed and let out a deep sigh.

"I should have known when you introduced yourself who you were." She nodded and her tone softened as she lowered her voice. "I heard about what happened to your girlfriend about the time Westen and Glenanne went missing. I'm sorry."

Sam waved a hand in dismissal. "So now you know we both lost something."

"And you have experience with a burned spy. I could probably learn a few things from you." A sly glint appeared in her eyes.

"Sure you can." Sam pushed himself up straighter in the chair and leaned closer as if he was about to tell her the secret to the meaning of the universe. "I've been there, done that, and the smartest thing you can do is be glad you got burned. Start your life over, find something safe to do and keep your head down. Fighting back or trying to find out who burned you isn't worth all the heartache."

"What if I liked being a spy?"

Sam looked at her with pleading in his eyes as he spoke. "Trust me. You're better off not going back to that life."

Diana stared at him. "You have no idea how much I love my work, despite the fact that sometimes I have to compromise myself, my beliefs, and my morals. If it get the job done, that's all that matters." She took a breath and let the words hang in the air between them. "I've been doing this so long, Sam, I don't know how to do anything else."

He heard the desperation in her voice. The same thing came out of Michael's mouth more than once, and he pitied her. She was brainwashed into the system, and it would be difficult to remove the almost irrational drive, but hopefully it could be done. Maybe she would be better off hanging out with him. The more time they spent together, the greater the possibility that he could convince her to throw away her desire for revenge and getting her old job back.

She looked at him, her eyes full of anticipation seeking an answer from him. "So, what am I going to do?"

He answered with a hopeful tone. "You can always go freelance. I've been thinking of getting back into it myself, but I wasn't sure how I would do it alone. I'm used to working with Mike and Fi, and a little bit with Jesse. But his boss has been sending him on a lot of jobs outside Miami lately. The only person I can rely on right now is me."

"I know that feeling." Diana snorted. "What are you saying, Sam? You want to work with me?"

He shrugged. "Right now I'm just concentrating on getting my sorry butt out of this chair. Then I'll worry about what I'm doing next." After encouraging her to not pursue who burned her, he didn't want to tell her that he was intent on finding Michael and Fiona.

"Makes sense to me. Maybe in a couple weeks I'll be okay to give up my quest, but right now it's the only thing that keeps me working hard. You know what they say, everybody's gotta have a goal."

"Some goals are better than others." Sam smirked. "Getting out of here is a pretty good one." He studied her a moment before he spoke. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you wind up in the VA?"

"I got shot in the back," she replied. "One more millimeter and my spinal cord would've been severed and I would be dead or paralyzed. They say I'm lucky. I don't feel so lucky being out of a job, with no identity and no means to make a living except be a spy."

"Oh brother," Sam said and shook his head as he glanced up at the ceiling.

She glared at him and asked, "What did you mean by that?"

Sam figured that God had quite a sense of humor to throw him in with this scenario all over again. Or maybe it was a chance to help Diana avoid the traps and save her from the backwash created by drinking from the spy pool. He really hated the idea. When he looked at Diana again, he saw a woman who needed guidance if she was going to avoid the pitfalls and pointless pursuit of revenge.

"I'm getting a sense of déjà vu. You sound just like Mike." He turned his chair so he faced her. "Diana, please, do yourself a favor. Don't worry about the spy crap. You've got the skills, just use them in a different way. And don't go after who did this to you. Walk away, when you can." He glanced down at her legs which she covered with a pair of leggings, and a pair of fuzzy pink bunny slippers cuddled her feet. His brows scrunched together. "I didn't know spies wore slippers like that."

"Yeah, well, I couldn't resist them when I saw them in a shop in…" She cocked her head and looked deep in thought. "I can't even remember where I found them, or how I got them back." She shook her head to get rid of the distraction of her contemplation. "Oh well, no matter. The point is, you want me to be normal, and I don't know how to do that. You think I should settle and I think I should knock some heads. I can't imagine we'd work together that well. We'd always be at odds."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Sam agreed, then smiled and tried again. "Still, while we're here we could work together on getting out of these contraptions, don't you think?"

She looked down at Sam's feet clad in socks and worked her way up past the pajama bottoms, a t-shirt and robe, and stopped at his face. She noted the hopeful expression. He needed a friend. So did she, because at the moment she was alone. Leaning forward, she said, "Okay, you've got a deal, Sam. Let's work on busting out of this place together. Then we'll figure out the rest."

His smile lit up like lightning on a warm summer night. "Well, that was easy."

She gave him a wary eye, but he only laughed. "Let's go for a roll," Sam said with a cheerful tone. He maneuvered around her and led the way. "I don't know about you, but I could go for something to eat."

"Hey, you're lucky you got the juice. The cafeteria was just about to close when I showed up, and it doesn't open again until sixteen hundred hours."

Sam's smile widened at her use of military time. He teased her, saying, "You're a spy. Like that can stop you."

"You're a little crazy, but you know what, I think you could grow on me," she said as she followed down the hall and fell into line with him.

"Look out, I'm like a fungus. Once I get attached to you, I'll never let you go." He joked, and it felt good. He hadn't had that lightness in his soul for a long time. A part of his brain reminded him that he wasn't going to get close to the woman. He wasn't. For the time being, he and Diana would just use each other for encouragement to get well, and then part ways. He'd wish her good luck even though he knew she was heading for a brick wall. Maybe he could at least prevent her from crashing into it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Jesse spent a lot of his non-working hours looking for clues on Michael and Fiona's whereabouts. All his old contacts in the government kept tight lips. He tried to get his boss interested in the ultimate missing persons case, without success. So it was up to Jesse to find some of Michael's old enemies and investigate them. It took time. Madeline gave him the key to Michael's loft the last time he saw her so he could get access to the information inside.

"Please, Jesse, I can't... I can't help except for giving you this key. Do what you can to find Michael and Fiona." She spoke with eyes spilling over.

Maddie's voice still haunted him, and the look on her face told him she knew something. He tried to get it out of her, but the more he pushed, the more she pushed him toward the door. Her actions puzzled him. Added to that the fact that she never tried to talk to Sam or go see him. It would be easy enough for her to do. Sam thought she didn't want to have anything to do with him, but Jesse had different ideas. It killed Maddie isolating herself from them. She was doing it for a good reason, and Jesse hoped that maybe some day soon he would find out why.

Until then, he spent hours poring over Michael's files in the loft, taking names and knocking on doors. It was draining and getting him nowhere. He needed a break, and with it being Christmas, he decided to visit Sam and see how he was doing.

Jesse knew the fourth floor like it was his own home. Get off the elevator, turn left, and Sam's room was the third on the right. He usually wasn't in it, and today was no exception. Jesse peered up and down the hall, and at one end was the community room. It looked crowded from where he stood, and music filtered down the hall. Probably some choral group visiting the vets.

"Can I help you, sir," a petite nurse asked with a drawl and a friendly smile.

"Yeah. I'm looking for Sam Axe."

"Oh, the last I saw him, he and Diana were heading down the hall." She pointed in the direction where Jesse had just come from. "I believe they went down with the elevator."

"Oh. How long ago was that?"

She shrugged before answering. "Maybe a half hour? The singers had just started, and they're almost wrapping up, so it had to be at least a half hour."

"Thanks," Jesse responded with a smile. "And Merry Christmas."

"Same to you, sir," she replied with another warm smile.

Jesse didn't know where to look or if he should just stick around on the floor until Sam returned. He decided to go down one floor, check it, and then another. Maybe he'd get lucky and run into him. As Jesse hit the button for the next floor down, his mouth tipped up into a smile. Leave it to Sam to find a woman in a place like this. But then his smile turned into a frown. How could he forget Elsa so quickly? It seemed as if they'd had a relationship that would have lasted if things hadn't gone so horribly wrong. No, there has to be something to this that I don't know.

The second floor, he discovered, had another room for patients to congregate. It was more like a library, not as populated, quiet, and even the lighting was muted to take better advantage of the sunlight that shone through the large windows. He found Sam with a woman in a wheelchair. That must be Diana. He noticed that from behind she kind of reminded him of Fiona with her straight back and her wiry frame, but her long curly hair was a dead giveaway that someone else kept Sam company.

Sam's eye caught his movement. As soon as he recognized Jesse, he grinned. "Hey, Jesse. I didn't expect to see you here today!"

"Yeah, well, I knew you'd be alone, so I thought I'd stop by." He gave Sam's companion a long look.

"Why don't you pull up a chair, Jess?" When he sat, Sam introduced them. "Jesse, this is Diana Cole, Di, this is Jesse Porter. One of my friends, the only one who didn't disappear on me. Thank you for that, by the way. Knowing you're out there gunning for me is the only encouraging thing I have to hold onto right now."

Jesse bowed his head. "Thanks, Sam." He leveled his gaze at him and said, "That means a lot to me. I know we haven't had the chance to bond like you and Mike did, but maybe through this search we can."

"Yeah," Sam agreed with a nod and a smile. "I'd like that."

Jesse asked Sam, "Any idea on when they're going to let you out of here?"

"It all depends on how fast I can get back to walking. I've been working out, getting my strength back, and doing a lot of drills for standing for longer periods of time," Sam answered with more enthusiasm than he'd shown in the past few weeks. "I'm close. Real close to getting out."

"What about you, Diana," Jesse asked, partly out of politeness, partly out of curiosity.

"I'll be walking in no time. I've been at this longer than Sam has, but we're at about the same level." Diana answered Jesse's question, all the while looking at Sam with a challenge in her eyes. "It's going to be interesting to have someone to work against."

"Before you showed up, we were about ready to bet who would be walking first," Sam elaborated for Diana. "It's going to be close, I think, but I'm pulling for myself. I had less damage than Diana did."

"It doesn't matter at this point," she said, a bit of the friendly competitive sparkle in her eyes being replaced by cold hard rivalry. "It all comes down to who wants it more. And I want it really bad." She glanced at Jesse and a blush appeared on her cheeks. "You know what? I'm gonna let you two guys visit. I'll see you later, Sam." She nodded at Jesse. "It was nice meeting you, Jesse. Merry Christmas." Before either man could say a word, Diana scooted away toward the door.

Jesse spoke as he watched her leave the room. "Wow. She's, uh, something else, Sam. Here I thought you might be romancing some new lady, but I don't think you want to mess with her."

Sam turned his chair to face Jesse and rested his forearms on the armrests. "Jesse, I love... I loved Elsa. There's no way I could just forget about her and find another woman. Besides, I'm too focused on walking and finding Mike and Fi to get involved, especially with her." He paused, glancing out the window until a wave of sorrow passed across his features like a moving shadow. He turned back to Jesse and continued, "She's just a new friend. I'm not ready to get too close to anyone yet, but she needs me, Jess."

"Why? What's up with her? It seems like she's got a chip on her shoulder," he said.

"She does," Sam replied. He leaned closer, even though they were the only two in the room. "Jesse, she's a burned spy. Someone tried to kill her and shot her in the back. That's why she's here."

Jesse whistled.

"Yeah, and she's got the same attitude that Mike had. Go after the one who burned her and kill them." Sam fell silent and sat back in his chair.

"It must be something natural with spies," Jesse reflected. "I felt the same way, remember? When I found out it was Mike, it just about killed me. He'd become my friend all the while he knew he'd stabbed me in the back. But I understand why things happened the way they did, and you know what? I'm glad it happened."

Sam nodded and said, "Me too, Jess. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here right now."

"You might not be here if it weren't for Mike." Jesse shook his head. "I don't know. Anyway, I've been going through Mike's old files looking for people who wanted him dead. If we don't get the CIA's help on this, I don't know how we'll manage it. This is like worldwide, and I don't know about you, but I don't have those kinds of resources."

"If Elsa was alive, I know she'd give me whatever I needed to find them," Sam declared. "But she's not, and I don't even know how I'm going to live on the outside right now, let alone go chasing after Mike and Fi."

Jesse snapped his fingers. "I've got it! But this is going to require you being able to go up stairs." Sam looked at him intently, and he continued, "You can stay at Mike and Fi's. Just keep paying the rent, which I know Mike said was insanely cheap, and maybe do Oleg a favor now and then. You know he liked having Mike upstairs, so he'll probably be agreeable to you staying and keeping the place up until he returns."

"I don't know." Sam knew he'd feel weird about sleeping in the couple's bed and living in the space that Fiona so lovingly decorated. But when faced with that or homelessness, Sam could think of worse things to do. "Don't you think Maddie will get upset about it?"

"Why should she? It's not her place. As far as I know she avoids the loft," Jesse answered with conviction in his voice. He clapped his hands together and rubbed them. "This is great. We solved one problem. Now, you just work on getting up and around, and I'll continue to plug away and see if I can find anything."

"Sounds like a good plan." Sam stretched, winced, and settled back into the chair. "I think I need to go get a little rest. I'll talk to you later, okay?" He smiled at him. "And Merry Christmas. Hopefully next year we'll be celebrating with Mike and Fi."

"Yeah, Merry Christmas, Sam." The visit was short, but it gave him hope that soon he would have a partner to help him get through the reams of files he still hadn't covered. "Hey, do you mind if I bring some of these files along next time?"

"Go right ahead. I might as well do something with my time when I'm not working out or doing therapy."

"Alright. I'll bring some the next time I see you." Jesse couldn't visit again for a few days because of his day job. The papers he brought with him were written in Russian, and Jesse didn't know the language, but Sam did. He might be able to find something in the handwritten notes.

He exited the elevator and saw Diana leaning against the wall, on her feet, hanging onto the railing. Her eyes were closed and she looked like she was in pain.

Jesse went over to her and asked, "Are you okay, Diana?"

Her eyes opened as she didn't necessarily smile, but the sight of him put a friendlier look on her face. "Jesse, Sam's friend. Nice to see you again."

"Yeah. Are you... do you need any help?" He asked again.

"No, I'm good. Just practicing standing up," she answered. Her chair was just a few feet away. "Sam and I finished PT this morning and worked together for a bit afterwards. I was tired, but I decided to push myself a little more."

"Don't overdo it," Jesse advised. "You have to let your body heal between workouts."

"I know that," she said and gave him a look like he had no clue. "Sam went off for a little nap. I'm younger, I've got more energy, and I'm not gonna let an old guy beat me getting mobile again." Sam couldn't have been more than ten years older than Diana, but apparently to her that was old.

Jesse shook his head. This woman was more stubborn than Sam implied when they talked about her. "Well, be careful."

"Tell that to the guy who burned me." She muttered and turned toward her chair. She took a step and her knees shook.

Jesse held out a hand, readying to help if she started falling. "Do you have any idea who may have done it? Are you sure it wasn't the agency itself? Maybe you just weren't cutting it..."

Diana whirled and he found a face full of anger staring at him. "I did nothing wrong. Nothing! I've been an outstanding agent for the past ten years, and I didn't deserve this!" She wobbled, gripped the railing, and began to lose her locked stance.

Jesse reached for her, putting his hands around her waist and setting her into the chair. She kicked out at him and called him a few choice names, but his late mother would be disappointed in him if he didn't help out a lady in distress. Even if she was an ex-spy with an attitude.

"That wasn't necessary," she spat as she unlocked the wheels, and without another word to him, she sped away, almost taking out a nurse rounding the corner.

Jesse cringed. He went to Sam's room to see him, and he hoped that his friend would be awake. Sam was asleep, but when Jesse sat in a vinyl chair and the cushion creaked and crackled, Sam opened his eyes.

"Hey, Jesse. How long have you been here," Sam asked. He reached for a button and raised the head of the bed so he could see better.

Jesse replied with a shrug. "Long enough to piss off your friend Diana."

"Not very long at all, then," Sam said and chuckled. "Don't mind her, she's just in a bad mood today. Someone from the agency came to see her."

Jesse's amusement at Sam's statement turned sober at the revelation. "Do you know what happened?"

"She wouldn't tell me, but I suspect she got an answer as to why she was burned and she didn't like it." Sam answered with a shake of his head. "It's not like Mike being messed with by Anson. This is a legitimate firing. She screwed up somewhere, and she's not gonna want to go down easy for her own mistake."

Jesse considered what Sam said. "I'd been thinking that maybe she wouldn't mind joining forces with us, but if she has issues," he said, "we better pass."

"Jess, she's not ready to work with anybody for anything," Sam warned him. "I keep hoping she'll talk to me about what happened before she was shot, but until she opens up about it, I don't think she's going to get past it and heal." He let out a breath of frustration. "She can work herself to exhaustion trying to beat me, but if she's doing it for all the wrong reasons, it's only going to end in disaster."

"Yeah, I agree with that completely," Jesse said. His eyes roved to the dry erase board at the other end of the room. Pointing to it, he asked, "What's up with that?"

The corner of Sam's mouth tipped up into a smile. "I made that line. If you'll notice, it's too high for me to do while sitting in the wheelchair."

"Ahh," Jesse's eyebrows rose and he grinned. "I thought that was the case."

"I drew that two days after Christmas, and every day I go over there, stand, and see how long I can stay in one place without falling on my butt. Then I record the time." His smile widened. "I did seven minutes today, after therapy even."

"That's great." Jesse praised him, then asked, "Is there some reason for this besides your competition with Diana?"

"Oh yeah. When I can stay up for ten minutes, my chances of walking get a lot better." He winked at Jesse. "I think the doctor just gave me that little exercise to encourage me to do more. Like I really needed it. It just makes me feel better to look at the progress up there in green and white." His eyes locked on the numbers, and in his gaze Jesse saw the pride of accomplishment.

The two spent time talking about what Jesse was pulling from the files and through talking with his connections. Sam gave him the names of other people he could contact, and upon mentioning his name would be more forthcoming with information. Jesse wrote down everything for later.

"Sam..." Jesse hesitated. When Sam looked at him with curiosity and suspicion, he continued. "My boss is sending me to Belgium this week. I'll be gone for awhile, so I won't get anything done."

"That's okay. You can leave those papers and I'll see what I can get off of them," Sam said with a cheerful tone, even though Jesse could tell Sam was concerned about the time that was being wasted between Jesse's work and his own infirmity. "It'll just give me a chance to get myself stronger and maybe by the time you come back I won't need that chair. "

Jesse kept on a brave face, but he doubted he would be gone that long. "Hey, while I'm over there, I'll see if I can find out anything on a couple of our suspects."

"That's a good plan." Sam's voice trailed off.

Jesse noted that he was weary, so he stood and wished him well before leaving the room. "Is there someplace I can put this case?"

"Just throw the folders in the night stand," Sam answered. "If anyone finds them, most likely they won't know how to translate them. Unless they were in covert ops, know Russian, and can read Mikey's handwriting."

"True." Jesse slipped the files into the cabinet within reach of Sam's bed. "I'll see you when I get back."

"And hopefully you'll see me taking a few steps. What a great late Christmas present that'll be, huh?" Sam asked with a smile.

Jesse couldn't help but return it with a hopeful one of his own. "Just keep working hard, and beat Diana. But not too hard." He laughed and walked out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The papers kept Sam occupied when he wasn't in therapy, and he was so focused that not even Diana could break his concentration. She tried a few times, and once she almost fell out of her chair looking around him and reading aloud in perfectly inflected Russian. Sam grabbed the papers, scooped them up, and glared at her over his shoulder.

He barked at her. "What are you doing? This is none of your business."

Diana smirked, ignoring the question. "What are those papers?"

"Nothing you need to be concerned about."

Diana got so close, her foot touched Sam's. "If you need help translating those..."

"I'm good. Thanks." His eyes met hers. "I'm just working on something, and I'm hoping that there's a lead in here."

A light went on in her eyes, and Diana smiled. "This has to do with Michael Westen, doesn't it? Are those his papers? What was he doing dealing with Mikhail Borovsky? That guy is... was... bad news."

"Was?" Sam eyed her.

"He's dead." Diana nodded. "I know, because my partner and I killed him." She said it with so little emotion it almost scared Sam. But then something sparked in her eyes and she looked down at her lap. Her lips twitched and she blinked.

Sam turned away from the table and faced her. In a soft voice, he asked, "What happened, Di?"

"We followed him to a resort on the Black Sea. He was taking a vacation from the mayhem, if you can believe that." She looked up at Sam and continued. "We found him and were going to apprehend him, but Borovsky wouldn't be taken alive. Three civilians... he took three innocent people down with him, and my partner."

"I'm sorry."

"We could have done it a different way, but I... I was too eager to get him. We'd been tracking Borovsky for almost a year. He was always evading us." She stared out the window. "It was after that I found out I was burned, in a crappy hotel in the Ukraine. I had to find my own way back to the States, and I was held for hours in a little room at the airport here in Miami. No windows, just a light overhead, and a table with two chairs."

"Did they release you, or did you take matters into your own hands," Sam asked with a tone that suggested he knew the answer to the question.

A small smile crossed Diana's lips. "I found a way to get out, and I discovered that whoever put me there just left and didn't tell anyone I was in that room. God only knows how long I could have been there." She shook her head. "So I left the airport, got a cab, and tried to go to the agency office, but the cab driver had other plans. He pulled a gun on me, the cab crashed during the struggle, and I thought it was my chance to get away..."

"When did this happen," Sam asked.

"A few months ago. That cabbie shot me in the back, right in front of a bunch of witnesses. I don't know what happened to him, if he took off or what. The cab was probably not drivable."

"And you wound up here." Sam nodded.

"Yeah." Diana whispered the word and swallowed. "I don't get why I was burned, and I just keep thinking that there had to be something else going on. The agency doesn't burn people just because they jump the gun and lose a partner!" Her voice rose enough to get the attention of a few patients at a nearby table.

Sam placed a hand on her arm. "Hey, settle down. You don't need the attention, believe me. If someone is trying to get rid of you and they find out you're still alive, you're in danger."

"Tell me something I don't already know, Sam." The retort came out in anger with a hint of hopelessness. "As long as I'm here, I'm safe. I think."

"As long as you hang out with me, and Jesse, you're safe," Sam said, his expression serious. "We'll make sure of it." A slow smile crept in and erased the grave look. "We've kept a lot of people alive over the years. Even without Mike and Fi, we can do it."

"Part of me wants to say go take a hike, I can handle things myself." She glanced down at her legs, then back up to him with a look of concession. "But we can both see how well that went. As a spy, I never had any friends except my partner, because they're just liabilities, people that others can use as leverage against you. Now, being abandoned by the agency, I'm beginning to understand how beneficial friends can be. Thank you, Sam."

"You're welcome, Di."

With Diana warming up to Sam's offer of friendship, she in turn offered to assist him with the pile of papers he was translating. They found a quiet corner in the library and each took a batch, searching for information. Borovsky was dead, but he may have had an associate or two who might be interested in Michael. There were a few names that popped up, but nothing solid.

"I wish I had access to a computer with clearances," Sam muttered. "It would make looking for these guys easier, and we'd get more intel. I mean, we might be going after ghosts and wasting our time."

"Can your friend Jesse look them up?"

"He's in Europe right now, but when he gets back, I'm sure we'll have enough to keep him busy for awhile," Sam replied with a smile. He turned to the last sheet of paper, scanned it, and sighed. "Well, that's it for me. How about you?"

"I'm done. Here's my list of names, and the ones with stars I would take a really good look at." She spoke and handed Sam her short list.

His eyes pored over it and he nodded. "Yeah, I know a few of these names too." He set the sheet down on his stack, took the papers from Diana and bundled them into a file folder. "So, now what are we gonna do? If I could, I'd be high tailing it out of here to track these guys down with somebody's clearances."

Diana laughed, the sound soft and sweet, not the kind of thing Sam would have expected coming from her. "I was thinking the same thing. Why don't you lock these up and we'll go work out?"

The duo spent more and more time together strengthening themselves and pushing their bodies to rise and walk. By the time Jesse returned, he found the two walking the hall toward the elevators. Two empty wheelchairs were parked along the walls, and Sam and Diana worked their way to them. Jesse stood at the elevator doors watching. As Sam neared, sweat glistened on his forehead and the hand gripping the rail faltered for a beat. But Sam glanced at Diana, saw her two steps ahead, and he found his reserve strength to gain a lead. He reached the chair and dropped into it, breathing hard, tipping his head back to take in a few deep breaths. Diana did the same.

"Man, you two are gonna kill each other if you keep it up," Jesse scolded.

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," Diana shot back. "I'm not feeling so strong right now, but," she paned, "give me a few minutes."

Jesse laughed, and he was rewarded with a slight smile from her. "Well, you'll have time to rest up. I need to talk to Sam for a little while. No offense, but..."

"Don't worry, Jesse," Sam said as he looked at his partner in recovery and gave her a cocked smile. "Diana and I went over Mikey's papers."

"You... you showed her?" Jesse looked stunned.

Sam replied as if his involving her was the most natural thing in the world. "She speaks fluent Russian."

"And read it even better," Diana added with a nod. "Your friend left a lot of notes, and it would have taken Sam a couple weeks to get through it all. Together, we finished it off in a few days." She smiled smugly. "Sam's got a list for you. If you have some pull to get intel from the CIA, you'll have quite the bunch of guys to look into."

"And these are just the Russian guys. God only knows what else would turn up in Mike's other files."

"Well, it just so happens that while I was in Belgium I had a chance to do a little legwork myself," Jesse said. "Let's go to your room, or some other place you think is secure, and talk about it."

"There's an empty room two doors down from mine," Diana said. "I don't think we can trust that Sam's or my room will be bug-free, you know?"

Jesse knew exactly what she meant. He nodded and said, "Okay, lead the way people."

Diana's room was not far from Sam's, closer to the community room. The empty room was about half way between the nurses' station and Diana's room. The three entered, Jesse closed the door, and they got down to business. Sam kept Michael's papers locked up, but the list he kept on himself at all times. He pulled it out of the pocket of the sweatpants he wore and gave it to Jesse.

"There you go," he said. "I added Di's names on it, so there are about eight guys there. Half of them are more likely than the others. Those bad boys had more to lose because of Mike's activities, so they're on our 'most likely to do bodily harm to Mike' list."

Jesse scanned the names, nodding now and then. When he reached the bottom, he shook his head and studied the two people seated in the wheelchairs. "I can't believe you guys."

"What?" Sam glanced at Diana. She shrugged. "What's not to believe?"

"You, Sam. You find a burned spy in here, one who can help us." His gaze stopped on Diana and he addressed her. "Thing is, I'm a little worried about you, that once you get out of here you're going to go all half cocked trying to find the one who burned you."

"I might. But right now you guys need help and I'm stuck in here, so until they let me go, I'll do what I can. Keeps me out of trouble." She grinned in such a way that left Jesse wondering just exactly she would get into if she didn't have this distraction.

"Okay. Well, I'll get to work on this list. You wanna get me those papers, Sam? I'll take them back to the loft."

"Sounds good, Jesse." He led the way back to his room, unlocked the cabinet with a key he kept on a lanyard around his neck, and handed the papers to Jesse. "Anything else we can do from here?"

"Just keep working at getting on your feet. It might take me awhile to track down some intel, but I'll keep you both in the loop." He clamped a hand on Sam's shoulder. "See you later. Diana, you two behave yourselves," he teased and left the room.

Diana snorted. "Just what does he think we're going to do?"

"We could keep up our spy skills." Sam suggested with an eyebrow lifted in a mischievous manner. "How about we go see if we can liberate some of that pecan pie they had at lunch?"

The absurdity of Sam's words hit a funny nerve, and Diana laughed. "I was right, you are crazy, Sam."

"Are you telling me you can't pick a lock?"

"I can. I just don't have any tools."

Sam scoffed. "Tools, shmools. Watch and learn, sister." He opened the drawer where the papers were kept, found a paperclip, and went to a cabinet near the door. He looked out into the hall, didn't see any nurses watching, and bent the paperclip.

"There's no pie in there," Diana said.

Sam shushed her. "I'm getting there. Just wait!" He shook his head. "Women. You can be so impatient!" He pushed the paperclip into the lock, wiggled it around a little, and they heard a soft click. He grinned and opened the cabinet, searching for the thing he sought. "Here it is." He pulled out a couple of thin tools that Diana had no idea what they were used for, but obviously Sam had something nefarious in mind for them. He hid them underneath his thigh, closed the cabinet, and turned toward the door. With a soft voice and a wicked smile, he said, "Come on. It's snack time!"

The cafeteria was in a sub level. When it was closed, the halls were empty, making it easy for two patients to race down the hall to the closed and locked doors. Sam passed them, almost colliding with Diana as she turned.

"Where are you going," she hissed, turned, and followed him to a single door not far from the entrance.

"This is the kitchen entrance," Sam announced while pulling out his tools and fitting them into the lock. It was a little high, but he could work it. "Hmph, I wonder if this door is ADA compliant."

"I think that's the least of our worries right now." Diana kept an eye out for anyone in the hall in both directions.

It didn't take Sam long to pick the lock. "There. See? Easy peasy."

"I could have done it faster."

"Fine. Next time a craving hits, you take the lead in the raiding party." Sam pushed the door open and, struggling with the chairs and the barrier, the two entered. "Yeah, this is an ADA violation for sure."

Along one wall stood a bank of brushed aluminum doors. Another wall held more of them. Not knowing which ones were the refrigerators, Sam went for one set, Diana the other. "I found it!" Diana almost let the excitement of the hunt get the best of her. It was a stupid pie, after all.

When Sam turned at the sound of her exclamation, he had a pretty good idea of what was going through her head. They'd spent enough time together to know. He felt for her, yet it made him uneasy that he understood. Going on a little adventure with Sam, as silly as it was, reminded her of who she was. Contrary to what the CIA said, she was a spy. She would always be one. If it meant working freelance with Sam and his friends, so be it. She sat with the fridge door open staring into its depths. The pie was at eye level in easy to abscond individual containers, but gooey pecan pie was the furthest thing from her mind.

Breaking her thoughts, Sam reached past her and picked out two containers. "Okay, now let's get out of here. We got what we came for. Oh wait, there's some yogurt. Blueberry." He picked up a carton and stared at it.

In the light from the inside of the refrigerator, Diana saw Sam's eyes mist up. He blinked a couple of times and quickly put the yogurt back inside, then pushed the door, almost closing Diana in it. She backed up and let him finish the task. Without another word, he led the way out the kitchen door, stopping only long enough to grab a couple of plastic forks in a rack. Next step in their caper was to find a place to consume their ill-gotten treats. He ducked down a side hall and she followed.

"There you go, Di. Enjoy." He handed her a piece and a fork.

"You seem less than enthused. Now that you got what you wanted, the thrill is gone, huh?" She asked and studied him.

Sam looked up at her. "No. It's just... it's stupid."

"Maybe, maybe not. Something happened in there. What was it?" Her eyes wouldn't lay off him, urging him to talk.

He gave her a dirty look. "I've met more tenacious interrogators for things far more serious."

"But I thought we were friends, Sam. Friends tell each other stuff knowing that the other person won't think it's stupid or make fun of them." She turned on the charm, then looked innocent as she added, "At least that's what I've been told."

Sam gave her a warm smile. She was good. "I was thinking of Mike. Blueberry yogurt was... is... his favorite."

"Oh." Diana nodded slowly. "Ray, my partner, he liked strawberry banana." She stuck out her tongue. "Yecch."

Not sure why he had to ask, Sam did. "What's yours?"

"Cherry." Her smile widened.

"I don't have a favorite. I guess I'm an equal opportunity yogurt kind of guy." The two heard a clang from somewhere nearby. "Uh oh, we better get out of here. You done?"

"Yeah," she replied in a soft tone as she looked around for anyone who might have seen them. The coast was clear. Diana took Sam's empty container and fork and deposited them into a nearby trash can with her garbage.

"We better get back upstairs before the warden freaks out," Sam joked, his sadness over missing Michael pushed to the back of his mind. He, Jesse, and Diana would find him eventually. Hopefully it wouldn't be too late when they did.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The day Sam walked without benefit of a rail or a wheelchair to fall into was a great day. He wouldn't be completely without aid, at least not for a little while. Armed with a cane, he felt like an old man. That feeling made him even more determined to work hard in order to throw it away as soon as possible. Diana, however, had a setback. She developed a blood clot that required surgery, so her release was pushed back a week.

Sam walked with careful steps into Diana's room, his heart nearly breaking at the dejected look on her face when she laid eyes on him. She lost the bet, but not through any fault of her own. He did what he could to encourage her by saying, "Don't sweat it, Di, you'll be out of here in no time. Just let us know when and Jesse and I will come pick you up."

"Thanks, Sam. I don't know where I'm going to go after I get out. I don't know if they froze my assets, so I'm a little strapped for cash, you know?"

"Don't worry about it. We'll help you out." He patted her hand that rested on the rail. "You're one tough chick, Diana. I'm looking forward to the day you and Fiona can meet. I think you two would get along." Then he cringed. "On second thought, maybe that's not such a good idea."

"I'm intrigued," Diana declared with a hint of a smile. Her expression turned to one of astonishment as she scrutinized his attire from head to toe. "I don't know why I should be surprised that you dress like that."

Sam looked down at the light blue Hawaiian shirt with a white palm frond pattern and khaki pants. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing. It's just... I don't know." She sighed, leaned back into the pillow and confessed "It looks like something Ray would have worn on his down time."

"Should I be flattered?" Sam gave her a lopsided grin.

She didn't smile. "There are too many things about you that reminded me of him. I hate that about you, but it also reminds me that I can't let Ray down. I have to finish my goal, and then I can see where I'm at. If the CIA really doesn't want me back, then I'll think about... other options."

"You know we're around to help, Di." He clasped her hand and squeezed, but he let go when he saw the pent up emotion in her eyes.

She turned away, and he knew she was afraid she'd start crying in front of him. "Take care out there, Sam."

"I will. And you get better soon." He let out a breath. "I'm going to miss hanging out with you, Di. You know, other than you and Fiona, I haven't had a lot of platonic girl friends."

"Well, don't worry, I'll be out and irritating you again before you know it." She turned back with a brave face and smiled for him.

He said goodbye and walked out the door with only the slightest wavering that he tempered with the cane. He saw how much she wanted to be walking out that door with him. She was jealous, frustrated, and generally hating the situation into which she'd been thrust. Sam knew that feeling. Fortunately, her drive would get her through it and in no time he had no doubt she would be calling to get a ride.

Sam had a little trouble getting the key into the loft door, but not nearly as much as he had hauling himself up the stairs. His legs cramped with pain, and it took the last of his strength to cross the room. Falling backward onto the bed, Sam settled his head into the pillows and he was asleep before Jesse brought his things inside. Before going to the loft, Jesse took him to the storage locker where Sam was able to retrieve his clothes and a few things he would need at his new, albeit temporary, home. As soon as he was able, Sam would need to get himself a car. For now, Jesse was his chauffeur and errand runner.

"Okay, that's it, Sam. Sam?" Jesse looked over at the bed and saw that he was out. "Okay," he said to himself. "Guess I better see what state the fridge is in."

It had been awhile since anyone lived in the place, and what Jesse found in the fridge looked like something out of a horror movie. The smell drove him back. Before he did any grocery shopping for Sam, the appliance would need a good cleaning. Jesse grimaced. Cleaning wasn't on his list of favorite things to do. If Maddie wasn't so standoffish, he'd call her. No, this was one mission he'd have to handle on his own.

Sam slept through the noise and Jesse's muttering and complaining. When the inside was cleaner than it probably had been in decades, Jesse checked on Sam. He was still sleeping soundly. He would go to the store himself, get what Sam needed, and come back and stock up the fridge and the cupboards.

The squeak and thud of the door as he closed it behind him woke Sam, and he sat up and looked around. His brain was a little fuzzy on where he was at first, but his still sore legs reminded him. As he swung his feet off the bed, he called out. "Jesse?" No answer. He tried again. "Jesse?"

He must have gone back to work or something. Sam listened intently for any indication that he wasn't alone. He was so used to the beeping, whispering, and squeaking of nurses' shoes on the floor that the lack of sound came as a bit of a shock. With a grunt and a sigh, Sam stood. He wasn't sure where his cane went, so he decided to take it slow and cross the room without it. He was taking a big chance. Only a chair stood between him and the doors leading to the balcony. One step. Two. Three. Like a baby, he balanced himself and moved across the space one small step at a time.

He made it without hesitating or stopping at the chair. He was pretty proud of himself. Keep it up, and in no time you'll be back to normal. That's what he told himself while flinging open the door to get some fresh air and a good earful of Miami. A rumble on the river mixed with splashing, and Sam saw a pleasure craft cruising past. He leaned on the rail and put one foot up on it. The stance pulled at his spine, but he left it alone. He figured he needed the stretching.

A squeal announcing Jesse's return proved to Sam that he wasn't alone, contrary to what he thought. He turned, smiled, and said, "You came back."

"Yes, and I brought you groceries. This should keep you for awhile."

To Sam's surprise, it took less thinking and effort to cross the loft from the balcony to the kitchen. Leaning against the counter, Sam watched Jesse put everything away. He noticed one thing missing. "Uh, Jesse, there's no beer."

"Well, with the meds, I didn't think you should be drinking."

Sam gave him an annoyed glare, but behind it he knew his friend was right. "Fine. I suppose I'll just have to get better faster then, won't I."

"Don't push it, Sam." Jesse advised him sagely.

Sam didn't bother to reply. He sat on the stool and wordlessly accepted the yogurt Jesse offered as an alternative. He popped the top, stuck his spoon into the thick, creamy yogurt, and stirred. "So, what are we doing tomorrow?"

"We aren't doing anything. I'm going to work, and you're staying here to recuperate. I don't want you trying to get down those stairs if I'm not here," Jesse admonished him as he reached into the fridge and got his own yogurt. "After seeing how hard it was for you to get up here, I hate to think what might happen when you try going down."

"I'll be fine." He grinned. "Hey, you could park me at Carlito's and I'll stay there all day. I promise." Wagging his eyebrows, he added, "There's a lot of nice scenery to look at all day. You know me, I like to people watch."

Jesse chuckled. Despite the fact that he'd lost Elsa and Jesse had no doubt Sam mourned her loss in his own way, some things about him never changed. "Am I gonna have to lock you up?"

"You know it'll never work. I'll get out." Pointing his spoon at him, Sam said, "You know I'm going to do whatever I feel comfortable doing, and I'll be careful about it. I mean, look at me, I didn't even use that stupid cane moving around here."

"Yeah. Where is it?" Jesse asked while looking around the room.

"I don't know," Sam answered with a shrug. He was more intent on getting the last bits of yogurt stuck to the side of the container. "I just know it hurt, but it felt good, too." He raised his eyes, and looking into Jesse's, he said, "I want to get back to normal as fast as I can. Wouldn't you want to do the same?"

Jesse nodded and set his yogurt on the counter. "Yeah. I would."

"Well then, you understand. So trust me, okay? I think I know better than anyone what my body can and can't do. I'll test the boundaries every day, but I won't overdo it." He sat up straight, pushed away from the bar, and got off the stool. Jesse took his yogurt cup, and Sam nodded his thanks. "I think I'm going back outside to sit and enjoy the fresh air." At the door he turned toward Jesse. "You don't know, Jess, how precious something is until it's... missing... for awhile."

Jesse had a feeling Sam wasn't talking about just the nice weather. He nodded. "So you're all set for now?" Sam nodded, and he continued, "Great. I'm going back to work. I've got the agency looking at those Russians on your list."

"By agency, do you mean the CIA?" Sam's eyebrows went up in surprise.

"Yeah." Jesse's smile was triumphant. "Maybe they'll have something for us soon."

"Us. You really think they'll put it back in our court?" Sam gave him a look that said he found that scenario hard to believe.

"The new director is a good guy," Jesse answered. "Or should I say, good woman?"

Sam's surprised expression turned to complete shock. "They hired a woman to take Card's place?"

"Yeah. Well, she's not high enough yet to be a director, but for this office, she's the one in charge." Jesse smiled while adding, "It's Dani Pearce." Seeing Sam gape was a precious sight.

"Agent Pearce? I thought they sent her overseas..."

"Card did that. He wanted her out of his way, but with him gone, the agency brought her back and she's taking over Card's post. So now we have someone on our side, and we'll get help to find Mike."

Sam still didn't look convinced. "You know she doesn't like me."

"I think she's willing to put that aside for the greater good," Jesse responded. "Well, I better take off. I'll see you later. Be careful."

"I will, Jesse. Thanks for all your help."

The corner of Jesse's mouth tipped up in a self-conscious smile. "It's no problem. That's what friends do, man. See you tomorrow, and seriously, call me if you need anything."

When Jesse was gone and Sam knew he wasn't coming back until the next day, and even then he didn't know what time, he felt truly alone. It was stifling inside the loft. Opening the windows didn't help. In the bathroom he found a bottle of Fiona's perfume sitting on the vanity and he sprayed it in the air just to sniff it and hope that by doing so, he could hang onto her and Mike for a little longer. They're not dead, I know that. Not if Mike has any say in it. Or Fi. They're fighters. They're going to come home.

Home. Elsa's face appeared in his mind's eye and reminded him that she wasn't coming home no matter what. He could wish and dream all day, but she would still be dead. Dead. It was his fault. No, it wasn't. Sam and Elsa had been drugged with something, and they weren't meant to wake up. He did, and now he had to deal with the aftermath. The perfume in the small space became unbearable. He had to escape. Whipping the door to the side and pushing himself out of the bathroom, it seemed as if the bed was a mile away and he was tired. He'd pushed himself too far.

Instincts told him to check to make sure Jesse locked up, only the trip would make walking back to the bed that much more difficult. It was his own fault for not trying to find the cane. He peered across the distance and noticed it on the floor, lying next to the mattress in such a way that it wasn't visible from the other perspective. Figures. With a heavy sigh, Sam traveled the distance to the front door, locked it, and with feet that seemed to be made of lead he finished the journey to the bed.

A cool tongue of air pushed the balcony door and slammed it against the wall, waking Sam in the middle of the night. It was so late, even the club below was silent. Rubbing his arms against the chill, Sam rose, closed and locked the double doors, and trudged back to the bed. In the dark he undressed and slipped under the covers. He lay on Mike's side and turned away from Fiona's. Thinking about her made him think about Elsa, and that didn't help any when he was trying to go back to sleep.

Weariness pulled Sam into its depths, but in the pit of his dreams he reran Thanksgiving evening through his head over and over again. He remembered being exhausted, thankful that he hadn't had too much to drink. Elsa complained of being unusually tired too. Then his imagination filled in the blanks as the couple reached the intersection, slipping into unconsciousness and winding up in that accident. Whenever he got to the crash he wanted to wake up, but his mind tortured him with pictures of Elsa bleeding, crying for him, reaching out to touch him.

No, that's not the way it happened!

How do you know? Your mind is faulty.

It was the drug.

You should have known what was wrong the minute you tasted that drink.

He second guessed and bullied himself until the only escape was to awaken. He found himself hugging the pillow with her scent on it, only it was Fiona's, not Elsa's. She'd worn a similar fragrance and at first he mistook it for Elsa's. He should have let go, but the desire to hold her was too strong. He could never again sate that need, and the hopelessness of that reality stung Sam in the heart. Thinking about his recovery took so much energy, he didn't have time to mourn. Now, in the middle of a silent night he had more than enough opportunity. With shaking shoulders he released weeks of sorrow, and it felt like a dam had burst along with his heart. Only sheer exhaustion could save him from such a personal hell.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_Women. Always impatient._ Wasn't that what Sam said? He had her number. Speaking of number... seven digits flitted across the plane as she closed her eyes. Stephen, her old handler. He probably wouldn't talk to her, but then again, maybe he would. She picked up the phone, began dialing, then put it down. She needed to find a phone that wouldn't be monitored. It was time to move, and at the same time see if she could get herself out of bed without winding up face down on the floor. It took awhile, and she had to be mindful of the IV needing to go along, but she made it into the chair. Diana found her bunny slippers under the bed, put them on her feet, and wheeled out into the hall.

After a little searching, Diana encountered a nun visiting a patient who had a cell phone in her purse. Diana saw it when the woman reached for a rosary tucked inside and gave it to the man she visited. She waited until the Sister left the room, hoping that the nurses wouldn't pay her any attention and discover her missing from bed.

"Excuse me, Sister," Diana said as the woman walked past her into the hall.

"Yes?" She turned and gave Diana a warm smile.

"Do you... can I borrow your cell phone? Just for a couple of minutes." She leaned closer and whispered, "The phone in my room won't work." It wasn't a complete lie, she told herself. At least not for the call she wanted to make.

"Of course, child. Here." She handed Diana her phone. "I'll be waiting in the room with my brother, and you can bring it in when you're done."

"Thank you." Diana gave her a big smile. Either the woman was extremely gullible or maybe she really did believe all that stuff about being kind to other people. The fruit of the spirit or something like that. She'd forgotten half that stuff during her career. To her, it was just words, because she'd seen the power of evil and it seemed a lot stronger than good most of the time. She shook off her contemplation and made the call.

"Hello."

"Stephen. It's Diana."

She heard him take in a breath. "Dides, what are you doing calling? I thought you were..."

"Dead? Not likely. Burned? You bet your a..." Better watch it, Diana. You're using a nun's phone! She didn't even know nuns had phones. At least it was one of those cheap pay as you go things. She was digressing again. Must be these drugs they've got me on. "Yeah, I'm burned. But I need to talk to you."

"Diana, where are you," Stephen asked, puzzled by her call.

"At the VA in Miami. Long story how I got here, but obviously you know something if you thought I was dead." She sighed. "Talk to me, Steve, why'd they burn me?"

"You should have gotten a visit by an agent..."

"I did, and it was all bull... loney. I was set up or something. I know it!" Her anger rose, and it was all she could do to keep it in check. "We should have gotten medals for taking down Borovsky. Instead, I get fired. It doesn't add up, Steve."

Stephen didn't speak at first. When he did, he measured his words carefully. "Diana, please, just take this as a sign. You were getting too lost in the job, and it's time for you to hang it up. Just find yourself a nice civilian, maybe some nice guy who can handle your... spirit... and let him teach you what it's like to be a normal person. Just a nobody. You're better off that way."

"Of all the people, I thought you would be my champion, Steve. I was certain you'd have my back." Her bottom lip trembled. No, I will not cry. I will not cry!

"I'm sorry, Diana. It was I who looked at your case file and suggested that you be burned. Tom Card agreed. I think he wanted you gone too, so he was only too happy to make it happen."

"Well, there's the problem right there. Card was dirty, so anything he did under his tenure should be thrown out. Including me getting burned."

"I'm sorry, Dides, it's just not that simple."

She let out a long held breath and it rattled over the line. "I can't believe you betrayed me. It thought you l... liked me. We were friends."

"We can always be friends, Diana. But your boss, your handler, anything else, no, I'm afraid that's not going to happen. I'm sorry." He took a breath. "As soon as you accept this, your assets will be unfrozen and you'll be given a new identity if you choose it. You can go wherever you want and we'll help you find a job."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I've already got something I can do. 'Bye, Steve." She closed the connection and stared at the phone. If it had been hers, she would have thrown it down the hall and screamed. But she didn't have that luxury. Fighting her emotions, she returned the phone to the nun, thanked her politely, and returned to her room. She closed herself off in the bathroom, stood up to look at herself in the mirror and gaze at the pain through a web of tears. Sliding down the wall, she collapsed onto the cold tile floor, pressed her back against the wall, and shielded her eyes with her forearms as she mourned the loss of her livelihood. She'd known it would happen some day, but until Stephen spoke the damning words, she'd held a small shred of hope in her hands. Now it ran out like sand between her fingers.

Her only alternative was to join Sam and Jesse in their search as she worked through her own problem; maybe, like Stephen said, Sam could show her what being a civilian was like. Maybe it wasn't as bad as she feared and she could find a way to use her skills in the other world. If she embraced it like every other challenge in her life, she could do it. She just needed some help, and that was the hardest thing for her to accept.

Just keep thinking of Jesse and Sam as assets. If she kept reminding herself of that, she would be okay. Stephen had been her mentor, her friend, and for a brief time, her lover. She still felt something for him, although now it was covered with the pain of his cold-hearted betrayal. She would never let herself get that close to a man again. It was too painful. It hurt more than her back at the moment. With a sigh, she pushed herself up from the floor and got back into the chair, then opened the bathroom door.

"Hello, Agent Cole. It took me a long while to find you, but I am so glad I did."

Diana looked up into the eyes of Borovsky's second in command. How he found her in Miami in a VA hospital was anyone's guess, but he did. She gave him a fake smile like she was happy to see him. "Georg. What are you doing here," she asked, keeping her voice steady.

"Did you really think that you and your partner could kill my boss and leave me to go on like nothing happened?" He spoke in a thick accent, and his English wasn't the best, so he switched to Russian. "I had to find you, to ask you why you would do this to me. I liked you, Diana. I fought for you."

"Like you really cared," Diana retorted in Russian.

"I did. I was beginning to develop feelings for you," he said as he leaned over her chair, his hand reaching out to caress her jawline. His face drew ever closer in an attempt to kiss her. "I wanted you, dear Diana. But now, I am faced with a problem. You killed my boss, a man I gave my life to. Now I must take matters into my own hands."

Fearing what he might mean by that, Diana thought her heart would explode inside her chest it beat so wildly. But what kind of agent would she be if she gave in to her emotions? She waited for his lips to be mere inches from hers, and she picked up the IV bag, threw it over his neck, and grabbed the line when it wrapped around him, pulling with everything she had. The line was made of soft plastic, but with enough pressure she could disable him, if not kill him.

Something clattered to the floor. Georg's gun. His hands scratched at the line, flailed at her to try to get her to release him, but she wouldn't let go. With a look of cold hatred in her eyes, she said in English, "This is for my partner Ray, you scumbag." He was turning purple and fighting less, causing her to smile in an evil way. With a gasp, his eyes rolled back and she pushed him away. He fell to the floor just as a nurse passed the room and happened to glance inside.

"Oh my word! What happened?" She saw the man unconscious on the floor, then looked up at Diana. She dropped a pile of supplies on the bed and hit the red emergency button. Grabbing some gauze, she hurried over to Diana. "Are you alright, Diana?"

"I'm fine. Just get someone in here to haul him away." She glared down at Georg's unmoving body. "Is he dead?"

The nurse checked for a pulse. "He's alive and breathing. You just knocked him out. Who is he?" She got to her feet and put some pressure on Diana's arm where she'd pulled out the IV line and the site bled.

More staff arrived along with security. Two of them handcuffed Georg and took him away after Diana told them who he was and that he should be taken by the government. The nurses attended to Diana, returned her to bed, and soon she was alone again. She may not have accomplished much in her recovery, but at least Sam and Jesse could scratch one guy off the list.

"Hey Sam, it's me, Diana."

"Di! How are you? Ready to get out of there yet?"

It warmed her to hear the enthusiasm in Sam's voice. He cared. That shouldn't have mattered, but it did. Diana smiled and replied, "Not yet. I just called because I had a visitor today. Georg Jakoby. He's on the list, but by now he should be in the hands of the agency. Hopefully this earned me some points toward a reinstatement."

"I wouldn't count on that. The CIA seems to be awfully unforgiving. Anyway, what matters is you just narrowed down our list by one."

"He wasn't on our big hitter track, but..."

"That's okay, Diana. We'll get 'em all, one by one." He spoke with conviction, and it made her more secure in her decision to ally with Sam and Jesse.

"I just hope that one of these guys knows where Michael and Fiona are." She cleared her throat. "You know, it bothers me that the agency isn't interested in trying to find them. Michael was a star for them and they just turned their backs on him? That doesn't make sense."

"There's probably more to it than we'll ever know. With Card involved, who knows what misinformation he used to poison the higher ups so they don't care about Mike. It doesn't matter. I don't give a damn about the agency. I just want my friends back."

Diana heard the sadness in his voice and her frozen heart thawed a little. He had a way of doing that to her even over the phone lines. It irritated her. She'd been trained to be emotionless and do her job, and she'd been so good at it for so many years. Now she was injured and vulnerable, and Sam Axe says and does all the right things to chip away at her hard shell. She would have to be careful of that. If she lost her edge, she'd be of no use to anyone.

"Di. Are you still there?"

"Huh?" She gasped. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"Maybe you better get some rest. Think you'll be able to get out before the end of the week?"

"I'm hoping. Unless some other rogue Russians decide to pay me a visit." Her laughter sounded hollow even to her. She covered it with a tired sigh. "I'll call you when I'm ready to leave."

"Hopefully I'll be more mobile and can come see you before you're released. Then you won't be alone, and with me on my feet, it might make the cafeteria raids go a lot easier."

She couldn't help herself. She laughed, a light sound that brushed away all her cares for a brief time. "Oh Sam, you're... I don't know." She sobered and swallowed back the emotion that threatened to undo her. She had no clue what she would have done if Sam hadn't been there for her, but she wasn't about to tell him how grateful she was. After all, he was just an asset.

"No man, or woman, is an island, Di." The smile came back into his voice as he said, "Remember that, okay? We'll see you soon." Somehow, he knew what she meant even without having to say it. That really irritated her!

Sam was right. It didn't mean she was ready to accept what he said, because when she did, it would open the door to feelings, getting close to people, and risking being hurt again. Diana wasn't sure she was ready for that yet.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Jesse was still uncertain, so he asked, "Are you sure you want to do this, Sam?"

"Yeah, it's time to get face to face with Maddie and find out what is going on. If she knows something that can help us find Mike and Fi and she's holding back..." Sam shook his head. "He's her own flesh and blood. Why wouldn't she want him home safe?"

"I have no idea."

Sam looked at Jesse with an intensity in his eyes. "If a mother can turn on her son like that for something beyond his control, what kind of mother is she?" He shook his head again, slowly. "I just don't believe for one second that Maddie is that kind of woman. Let's go. I want to find out. The suspense is killing me."

You and me both, Jesse thought. Aloud, he said, "Alright, let's do it."

The ride to Maddie's house wasn't long, but it seemed to take forever. All the way Sam's mind was occupied, wrestling with what he would say, wondering if he'd even get a chance to speak or if she would throw them both out the second they appeared on her doorstep. By the time Jesse parked in the driveway, Sam trembled and needed every bit of support the cane offered him. He didn't care if it made him look old. Jesse walked beside him, and out of the corner of his eye Sam noted his concern.

"I'm fine, Jess."

"You don't look fine," Jesse replied, still studying Sam. "You're looking kind of sick."

"Thanks. Nothing a little sunlight won't cure, trust me," Sam replied with a gruff tone. He reached the back steps and looked up at the wooden door with doubt. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

It was too late to turn away. The door opened and Madeline Westen stood inside the frame puffing on a cigarette. Some things never changed. The screen made it difficult to see her face, but she pushed on it and it opened, and Sam and Jesse gazed up at her.

"I was wondering when you two would come around," she said, her voice rough. Her eyes stopped at Sam and the way he stood leaning to one side. When she saw the reason why, her eyes softened. "Can you… why don't you boys come in?"

"Thanks, Maddie," Sam said and took the first step. She stood watching his every move, and when he glanced up at her she didn't even try to hide the pity she felt for him. That was a good sign. Maybe she wasn't as mad at him as he thought.

He and Jesse entered the house and Maddie led them to the dining room table where the team always congregated. It was clear of everything but an ashtray full of cigarette butts. "Can I get you a beer, Sam? Jesse?" Her tense voice held no anger, and her welcome wasn't exactly like the warmth they received in the past, but it was far from what Jesse and Sam expected.

"Uh, no, thanks, Maddie," Sam answered with longing in his tone, but looking at Jesse and seeing the warning in his eyes curbed his desire. "Just water or something would be fine."

Her smile was more like a nervous twitch. "Of course, you're probably on something for the, um…. I'll be right back. Anything for you, Jesse?"

"I'll have the same, thanks." Jesse and Sam settled into chairs at the table, and Maddie soon reappeared with glasses of water for them and a diet soda for herself. She puffed on her cigarette and asked, "How are you doing?"

She tried to deflect with chit-chat, like Sam had been off on a mission and just came home. He didn't want to chat: he wanted answers. Taking a swig of his water, he swallowed before replying. "I'm getting better, Maddie. Trying to deal with this, and Mike and Fi, and Elsa all being gone. If it weren't for Jesse, I'd feel like I'm all alone." He locked his eyes on her. "Why didn't you come to see me at the hospital?"

"At first, I was mad at you," Maddie replied, bowing her head in an attempt to get away from his intense stare and examining a nail. "I blamed you for my son's disappearance."

"Why? I had nothing to do with it," Sam said with a wounded tone.

She raised her head and looked straight at him. "I know that, but I was hurting. I lost one son, now another one." She turned away and stared out the open front door. "I needed someone to blame because somehow it made sense, but it didn't ease the pain."

"That I understand. But later, you could have stopped by. I would have loved to see you." He smiled.

She mirrored the expression, reached across the table, and took his hand. She squeezed it and said, "I'm sorry. I wish I could explain, but…." She trailed off and turned her head to look at the potted plant in the corner. "There are things in this house that are bugging me." She inclined her head toward the plant.

Sam and Jesse's eyes widened as Maddie's underlying message became clear as day. Someone bugged her house, and the transceiver was in the plant. Sam said, "Well, maybe we should get some lunch. Carlito's, Jesse's buying."

Jesse gave him a look.

"No! I can't do that. I can't." Maddie shook her head, her voice trembling when she spoke.

"Oh come on, Maddie, it looks like you need to get out of the house too," Jesse said.

"I'd love to, boys, but it would be bad for my health if I did." She pulled the chair back and pointed to her ankle as she stepped away. She pulled up her pant leg and revealed a klunky black ankle bracelet attached to her.

Sam almost exclaimed his outrage aloud. Instead, he mouthed, "CIA?"

Maddie shook her head. Aloud, she said, "I have something here I want to show you. Pictures I found." She turned to the buffet, reaching inside to pull out a pad of paper and a pen. She returned to the table and scribbled on it, then showed Jesse and Sam what she wrote. "Strange men came looking for Michael. Put this on me, said I would die if I left the house."

Jesse gestured and Maddie gave him the paper. He wrote, "We can remove it."

Taking back the pad, Maddie responded, "No! They'll know and they'll kill me."

Sam's eyes met hers and she saw the determination in his when he shook his head. "Hey Jesse," Sam said aloud. "I see Maddie's got a problem with that outlet over there. Why don't you go to the garage, get the toolbox, and we'll take care of it?"

Picking up on Sam's idea, Maddie spoke with exaggerated thankfulness in her voice. "That's so nice of you. With Michael not here, a lot of things don't get done."

Jesse ran to get the toolbox while Sam knelt to examine the ankle bracelet. It wasn't easy getting down on the floor, but he did it. This wasn't just a standard law enforcement issue. He located a box attached to it with three holes facing Maddie's skin. It was situated right over the inside of her ankle where needles could spring out and inject something into her veins. Within minutes, she would be dead.

Jesse came back to the house, and Sam asked, "How long do you think it'll take to get this fixed?" He pointed at the apparatus.

"A couple minutes, five at the most. It's a real easy thing to take care of," Jesse answered.

"Good. If you need any help, let me know." Sam used the table to pull himself up. "Woah," he said, took a couple steps back and knocked over the plant. "Aw jeez, Maddie, I'm sorry." The bug fell out of the pot and lay on the floor among the scattered dirt. One sidestep and it crunched. "Whoops."

The three looked at the crumpled bug. She asked, "Do you think that was enough to destroy it?"

"Yeah," Sam replied with a worried tone, because he knew they weren't out of this yet. He picked up a matchbook and handed it to Jesse. "Okay, five minutes might be about all you've got, Jesse. Work fast, and stick that in between the box and Maddie's ankle. Don't want to set it off by accident."

"What happens after you get it off," Maddie asked with anxiety in her voice.

"After that, we get out of here and take you somewhere safe," Jesse answered. "No doubt your friends will come back to check on their faulty bug."

"But I don't have anything packed!" She stared at Sam.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of that. Jesse, how's it going?"

"Maybe two or three minutes I'll have this cracked," Jesse replied as he worked on the bracelet.

"Great. I'll be back." Despite the pain and heaviness that plagued his legs, Sam hurried to the stairs to Maddie's room. Not knowing what she would need or how long she would be away, he grabbed everything out of her dresser and half her closet, stuffing it all into two suitcases he found in one side of the closet.

"Sam, I got it! Let's go!"

He couldn't carry the cases down, no matter how much he wanted to try. "Jesse! I need your help up here!"

Jesse took the cases and led the way downstairs. He glanced back at Sam to make sure he was coming. "You need help?"

"Don't worry about me. I'm coming!" Jesse disappeared around the corner at the bottom of the stairs. He was never so glad as when his feet hit the landing. He moved toward the front door to close and lock it just as two shadowy figures approached the steps.

He recognized the members of Borovsky's team. The men raised their guns, but Sam was faster. He shot both of them through the screen, then slammed the door and locked it on the off chance that one of them was capable of rising and breaking into the house. The short explosions of gunfire coming from the back yard told him that Jesse had his hands full. Sam didn't think he could run, but if there was ever a time to do it, now was that time. He limped through the dining room. Tinkling glass and the thump of a bullet impacting with the wall to his right got him moving faster. He burst out the back door and found Jesse and Maddie piling into Jesse's car.

"Sam! Come on!" Jesse yelled at him as he started the vehicle.

The front passenger door was open and waiting for him. So was another of Borovsky's men. He shot at Sam, missed, and fired again while Sam ran to the car and got off one shot before throwing himself inside. Jesse pulled out of the driveway, swung the car in an arc, and the momentum slammed Sam's door as he took off.

"Okay, that went well," Jesse said with a sarcastic tone. "Where to now?"

"Let's go down to the beach, take cover in one of those cheap motels, and you'll have to ditch the car somewhere Jess. Sorry," Sam said and glanced at him.

"Yeah, don't worry about it." As he drove, Jesse checked the rear view mirror to make sure that no one followed them. He found a motel in one of the busier parts of the strip and Sam and Maddie got out. Jesse brought the luggage from the trunk. "You two get the room, and I'll take care of the car."

"Be careful," Sam urged him.

Maddie didn't say anything. She just patted his arm, picked up one case, and followed Sam, who struggled with the other case. She tried to take it from him but he wouldn't let her. At the door, she turned and spoke to Jesse. "Please, come back to us, Jesse."

"I will, Maddie. I promise." He replied with a reassuring smile.

"Maddie, come on. You're a sitting duck out there," Sam whispered to her, pulling on her arm to get her to enter the motel office.

She nodded, turned, and followed Sam inside.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Maddie knew that Sam was in pain after all the activity. God only knows where he left his medications; probably still at the loft. She watched him lying on the bed, trying to get comfortable, but finding no relief. It pained her to see him that way, as much as it hurt not having any contact with Michael's friends for so long. Unable to take much more, she got up and approached his bedside. He rolled to his side facing away from her, but she could tell by the set of his back and shoulders that he was awake. She sat on the edge of the bed and reached out, touching him lightly on the shoulder. "Sam?"

"Yeah, Maddie." He turned, laying on his back and focusing on her with tired, pain filled eyes.

"I have some aspirin in my purse. I'm sorry I don't have anything stronger." She smiled sheepishly.

"Ah, yeah, sure," Sam said, his voice weak. "It's better than nothing."

After Maddie gave him the aspirin and a glass of water to wash it down, Sam flattened himself on the bed again and tried to relax. Jesse sat in a chair near the door keeping his ears tuned to a couple talking. The voices rose in volume and tapered off on their way past the room. Otherwise it was pretty quiet; in a few months, the spring breakers would come and destroy the serenity. The relative peace was an advantage making it easier to detect anything that sounded out of the ordinary.

Night fell and Jesse and Maddie were tired. She was also bored staring at Sam's sleeping form. He seemed too pale, and his skin was a little clammy the last time she checked on him. Otherwise, he seemed to be resting well. She was afraid to put on the television and either wake Sam or mask the sounds that Jesse monitored, so she occupied her mind thinking about the day when Michael would come home and give up this crazy life. If it meant moving away from Miami and finding some sleepy little town in the middle of nowhere, she would gladly give up everything to make the move. She was tired of this, sick of worrying and hurting for Michael and his friends. They all needed a rest.

"Maddie, you should probably get some sleep," Jesse advised.

Maddie woke with a start, realizing that the room was dark except for a single light that hung over the table where Jesse still held his vigil. Somehow, she'd fallen asleep sitting in the uncomfortable wicker chair.

Turning to Jesse, she asked, "Are you okay? You must be tired too."

"In a couple hours I'll wake up Sam and he can take over. He's had about six hours of sleep," Jesse replied and looked at his watch. "It's almost midnight."

"Do you think that those men could have found us yet?" She was tempted to look out through the curtains, but in all the times she got involved in Michael's cases or wound up in trouble because of them, she learned that certain actions could expose them to danger.

"I don't know. We might easily have someone out there watching." Jesse answered and yawned. "In the morning I'll go out and grab us some breakfast, and I'll be watching the area. I know what our guys should look like if these are all Borovsky's team trying to clean house."

"Clean house." Maddie's eyes widened. "You're not saying… you don't think that they've… killed… Michael and Fiona." She swallowed. "Do you?" Silently, she prayed that she'd misinterpreted his statement.

Jesse sighed heavily, and Maddie knew he hadn't intended to let his reservations slip like that. "I don't know, Madeline. I hope not."

"Me too." Maddie stood, and as she slipped past Jesse to go to the bathroom and prepare for bed, she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Good night, Jesse."

"Same to you, Maddie."

Maddie finished in the bathroom and lay on the bed closer to the entrance. Sam stirred on the other bed when her mattress creaked, his eyes flying open and his gun in his hand when he perched on the edge of the bed. "Sorry, Sam. It was just me." She pulled the covers up around herself.

Sam calmed his breathing. "Oh, okay." Running his hand through his hair, he asked Jesse, "Are you ready to switch?"

"I was going to let you sleep a little longer."

"No," Sam said as he rose and approached the door. He glanced out the peephole. "Quiet out there."

"Yeah," Jesse answered softly.

"Go on, I've got this. I'm awake now, no way I'll get back to sleep." Sam jerked his head toward the bed. "Go ahead, Jesse. I've got this covered."

Jesse and Maddie settled in to sleep until the sun rose. Meanwhile, Sam listened to the stillness outside. He cracked the window open because he couldn't believe that it really was that dead out there, but other than the hiss of the surf and the low murmur of a car passing, only a few voices drifted up to the second story. Lovers out for an early morning stroll, most likely. It reminded him of the times he captured Elsa, ripped her from her duties and the things that tied her down, and escaped with her to the ocean. If he closed his eyes, he could still see her acting like a kid, splashing him and laughing, her hands scooping up the water and flinging it over her head. The two always wound up soaked and full of sand by the time they were done, but the look of contentment on her face made it all worthwhile. Sadness crashed down on him as he realized he would never see that again. Stop thinking about that, or you'll find himself pouring out a bucket of tears again and this time you've got an audience. That'll never do.

A couple hours later, Jesse awoke with a start. "Hey, what time is it?"

Sam answered, "It's seven thirty. You should grab some more sleep, Jesse."

"Nah, I'm good." He got up and stretched. "I'll go run and get some breakfast from that little cafe just down the street. Be right back."

While he was gone, Maddie awoke with a smile for Sam, and she retreated into the bathroom to put herself together. It wasn't very often that Sam saw her as un-together as she was at that moment, not even during the times he stayed with her when he was in between lady friends. Jesse banged on the door, a plastic bag hanging from his fingers containing a hearty breakfast for three, and a tray holding coffee in large to-go cups. When Maddie emerged from the bathroom looking more like herself, the three sat down to eat.

"I'd really like to know how Borovsky's guys decided we were worth picking on," Jesse said, holding his cup of lukewarm coffee in his hands over a half-eaten breakfast. "It's been going on almost two months and only now they strike at us. It doesn't make sense."

"Jesse, I've been holed up in my house all this time with that thing on my ankle thanks to them. This isn't a new thing," Maddie exclaimed with the memory of that time etched into her scowl. "I wanted to call you, or go see Sam and ask for help, but I couldn't. The phone, the house, everything was bugged and I was booby trapped…." She broke off, losing her composure. She latched onto the arms that Sam put around her as he held her close. Into his chest, she spoke. "You don't know how hard it was to pretend everything was fine when my friends came over."

"And I thought it was bad being stuck in bed for weeks at a time," Sam muttered. "Shh, it's okay, Maddie. That's all over with, and we'll find out who's responsible for this. No doubt when we uncover them, we'll discover where Mike and Fi are." At least, that's what he hoped.

When Maddie recovered, Sam let her go. She sat straight in her chair and peered through the chink in the curtains. While he and Jesse discussed the situation, she remained silent.

"Let's take a few steps back here," Sam said, picking up his fork and stabbing a piece of sausage that he waved in the air as he spoke. "Borovsky was killed in Odessa. Diana and her partner Ray were responsible for that. Hmm, I think I should write this down." Sam dropped the utensil, rose, and walked the few steps to the desk without assistance, returning with a pad of paper and pen bearing the motel's logo. "Okay, Borovsky's dead. Diana's partner Ray dies in the gunfight that killed Borovsky, and she winds up getting burned because of what happened."

"That's crazy," Maddie interrupted, looking at Sam with disbelief in her expression.

"I know. But Card was her supervisor. There must have been some kind of connection between Borovsky, Anson, and Card. Diana took out one of the trio, Mike wouldn't play with Anson, so there's a lot of desire for revenge there from Card's point of view." He let out a breath. "Maybe Card wants everyone involved to suffer, and he's getting desperate."

"But isn't he in government custody," Maddie asked.

"Yes, he is, but Card is smart," Jesse replied. "He might have someone working for him pulling some strings to get Borovsky's men to try to take us all out."

"And Diana," Sam added.

"Yeah. This whole thing is nuts," Jesse said after a long drawn-out breath. "Sam, how many people are we talking about in Borovsky's crew?"

"Back in Russia, he started with six, other than himself. The big guy died with one of his lower echelon guys. Diana apprehended one, so now we're down to four guys wandering out there somewhere. They're all on the list." Sam pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and held it up for them to see.

Maddie chewed on her bottom lip. "Could they all be guarding Michael and Fiona somewhere?"

"It's possible." Sam leaned over the table and peeked out the gap, scanning the walkway and the street below. People were out and about, but no one Sam recognized. "Nobody looking like surveillance out there. It's a good thing I remember those guys from way back when. Granted, they've changed over the years, but there are things like habits and mannerisms that don't change as radically." He rested against the seat back.

Jesse added, "Not usually."

"Right," Sam answered. Picking at what was left on his plate, he sighed. "I wish Diana hadn't had Georg delivered to the Feds. There's no way we'll have a chance to interrogate him, and if someone in the agency is still cozying up to these guys, he could be a free man by now and back with his buddies." He dropped his fork, pushed away his plate and got up to pace the floor. His legs hurt, but his frustration bothered him more.

"You know you're walking better than you were yesterday," Maddie pointed out to him with an encouraging smile.

"Who knows, maybe forcing myself to run was a good thing," Sam replied, standing in the narrow space between the beds with hands on his hips. He pulled his phone from his pocket, scanned his phone listings, and pressed one. "I've got an idea."

With Jesse and Maddie listening, Sam conducted a conversation in Russian mixed with a smattering of English words. When he finished, he sat on the edge of the bed and told them what he learned. "That was a buddy of mine in Immigration, an ex-Russian national who proved useful to our country, and he defected back in the day. His current job is to help the CIA and other agencies keep tabs on who comes into the country, legally and illegally." He noticed the confused look Maddie gave him. "Believe it or not, Maddie, sometimes the nastiest criminals fly in with a commercial airline and waltz right through security and customs without anyone being the wiser."

"So how does your friend pick them out of the tourists and businesspeople?"

"Oh, he has his ways. Anyway, he was able to tell me when five Russians came to town almost three months ago. Since then, they've traveled to DC and back, but they didn't fly. They rented a car and drove."

"Weird," Jesse said, and his eyes lit up. "You think maybe they were looking for a place to stash Mike and Fi along the way to DC? But why would they want to take them there?"

"Probably an arrangement they had with Card, but now that he's in federal custody, everything's fallen apart. They may not know what they're supposed to do now," Sam said.

"We need to grab one of these guys and interrogate him," Maddie said, getting into the conversation.

"Maddie's right," Jesse said with a sigh of resignation. He glanced at Sam. "Does your friend have a way of tracking their car?"

"He's working on getting clearance to monitor the tracker on the car." He turned to Maddie and explained, "Most rental companies these days have the ability to track their vehicles. Shoot, if the government wanted to, it could monitor everybody and anything as long as they have a chip in them." Sam shook his head, knowing he was getting off track. "Anyway, the point is, once he gets the signature, and we go to the loft to grab Mike's laptop, we can keep an eye on wherever they drive."

"You want to go back to the loft." Maddie inclined her head and looked at Sam as if his spine wasn't the only thing injured in the accident. "It's too dangerous."

"We have to take the chance," Jesse argued. "Without that tracking software, we can't do anything but sit and wait for them to find us and attack again."

"I hate this," Maddie grumbled. "I'm tired of worrying about the people I love dying."

Sam frowned and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Let me call someone and see if they can help." The phone rang a few times, and then Sam spoke. "Oleg. Hello, it's Sam Axe." He listened to Oleg's response, grinned and replied, "We're working on that. That's why I called you. I need some help. We need Mike's laptop, it's on the breakfast bar in the loft. Can you bring it to us? We're at the Breaker Motel."

It was risky giving his location over the phone, but he knew Oleg was a suspicious enough ex-Russian spy who made sure his lines of communication were clean. Sam ended the conversation shortly after getting an answer from Oleg, and as he returned the phone to his pocket, he announced the good news.

"Oleg is going to the loft to get the laptop and he's bringing it here."

"That's great." Jesse smiled. "I can hardly wait to start tracing these guys."

"I don't understand how you two can continue to do this," Maddie muttered, picking up a cigarette. She'd held off up until now, but she was desperate for one. The flame touched the end and she took in a heady drag. "I'm so afraid all this work and trouble will be for nothing, that Michael and Fiona are dead, and…." She couldn't finish.

"Mike and Fi are the reason we're doing this, Maddie," Sam replied. "We're willing to risk everything to get them back alive and in one piece."

"Have a little faith, Maddie." Jesse gave her a reassuring smile. "We know what we're doing. Mike knows how to survive under detention, and I'm sure Fiona is no dummy either. If there's any way, they will survive and we'll find them."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Oleg brought the laptop but he didn't stay to chat. He knew how this worked, and Sam gave him a fifty for his effort. Oleg wished them luck and said, "I want my favorite tenant back, Sam."

"We want our best friend back, and Maddie wants her son. We're going to do our very best to make sure that happens."

Happy with Sam's answer, Oleg turned and left the room. Through the crack in the door, Sam watched Michael's landlord trot down the stairs, get into a cab, and leave. Before Sam closed the door Jesse sat at the table, booting up the computer and opening the program.

"Okay Sam, you have the frequency?"

"Let me call my buddy." After talking with his friend, Sam relayed the information to Jesse. He stood behind him with Maddie waiting to see a blip on the screen. The computer searched sections of a Miami map and zeroed in on a red dot in the northern part of the city. "Hey, looks like they're leaving town."

"Well, we might as well just settle in folks, and see where our friends are going." Jesse sat back and crossed his arms.

Waiting was one of the worst parts of a mission. After so many years, Sam still hadn't gotten the hang of it. He tried napping, but the mattress that had seemed so comfortable the night before now felt like a bed of rocks. His phone rang, and he looked at the screen. He didn't know the number.

With a cautious tone, he answered it. "Hello?"

"Hi Sam, it's me, Diana."

"Di! Where are you?" He asked while sitting up and perching himself on the edge of the bed.

He heard her breath as she hesitated. "I checked myself out of the VA, and I had some cash on me, so I bought myself a burner phone."

"Where are you?" Sam didn't mean to sound like a father upset that his child broke curfew, but he worried about Diana. She could be putting herself in danger and not even be aware of it, although he knew she would be more careful than that.

"I'm just around the corner from the VA. There's a little shopping center here and I'm just hanging out, as low-profile as I can be, hoping that some kind person will come and pick me up." He could almost hear her smile. "Or I get a cab. Depending on where you are, I may or may not have enough cash to get me there."

Feeling his anxiety rise, Sam spoke. "We're not far away. Stay where you are, Di."

"I had no intention of going anywhere. My back is killing me right now."

Sam let out a sound of annoyance. "You didn't leave against medical advice, did you?"

"Oh Sam, will you just please come and get me? It's bad enough I have to beg for a ride. I'm not used to being so reliant on other people, so give me a break, will ya?"

The anger she gave him a taste of that first day they met came back, and Sam knew she was not feeling safe even though she was hiding in plain sight. "Okay, I'll be there soon." He closed the connection and turned to Jesse. "You two okay here while I go pick up Diana?"

"You mentioned her before. Who is she? Who's Diana," Maddie asked.

"Another burned spy," Sam replied and turned his attention to Jesse. "I'd ask to borrow your car, but I'll just… find one."

Maddie let out a breath of disgust.

Placing his hands on his hips, Sam stared at her. "Mikey told me stories of how he had to steal cars occasionally, with your knowledge of what he'd done, so you certainly have no business getting self-righteous at a time like this." He noticed her face redden in shame, and he softened his tone. He felt guilty, as if he'd just chewed out his mom. "Besides, this is an emergency, Maddie." Sam walked to the door and stopped. "Be careful you two."

"Same to you, Sam," Jesse replied.

Sam nodded and left the motel. His legs behaved as if they were stiff while he went down the stairs, but once he stood on flat pavement, he had no trouble walking. A smile crossed his lips. He was finally getting back to normal, and not only was it a relief, he felt an enormous sense of thankfulness for not permanently losing mobility. He'd taken it for granted and hoped he wouldn't be so easily drawn into doing that again.

Sometimes people make it too easy to borrow their car. Taking it is almost as if you're doing them a favor, teaching them a lesson. As Sam passed an alley he saw a subcompact parked with the engine running. Glancing around and not seeing anyone paying attention, he cut into the narrow lane and approached the vehicle. He saw no sign of the owner, although the back door to a restaurant stood open with the screen the only barrier between the alley and the kitchen. Chattering inside sounded like Chinese. This was probably a delivery guy's wheels.

Don't worry, I promise to bring it back exactly where I found it. Sam got into the driver's seat, put the car in gear, and took off without making too much noise. As he turned onto the street, he heard shouting behind him. But he was home free as long as the guy didn't call the cops right away. Sam obeyed all the traffic laws to reach the mall. He parked and locked the door, taking the keys with him, and went in search of Diana.

When she saw him, Diana grinned. She rose and approached with slow steps that lengthened as she gained confidence in her legs' ability to propel her. She met him in front of a smoothie stand, reached up, and curled her arms around his shoulders to embrace him. He was taken aback by her actions, and when her lips brushed his cheek, he was confused.

She whispered in his ear, "Uh uh, don't pull away, Sam. There's a guy over there who's been watching me for the last half hour."

"Where," he asked, his arms circling her as part of the ruse.

Her lips touched the side of his face and she used the contact to guide his head in the right direction. "Over there. Guy in the dark green shirt. Do you recognize him?"

"No. It's not one of Borovksy's men. He just looks really upset about something."

"I know. That's what has me worried." She ran a hand down Sam's chest as she planted her feet on the pavement.

Sam released her, his eyes locking onto hers as he gave her a broad smile. "Are you ready to go?"

"I hope the vehicle you brought isn't too obvious," she said and picked up a couple of shopping bags full of clothes that she dropped when hugging him.

Sam looked down at the bags, wondering where she got all the clothes. They didn't look new, but then with women's fashion, you never knew if old was new or not. He assumed they were her own clothes, because she didn't strike him as one who would go on a shopping spree after escaping the hospital with limited financial resources.

"Don't worry. I'll get you safely to the motel where we're staying. Jesse's got a bead on the car we think Borovsky's men are using, and we're hoping that it'll go to wherever Mike and Fi are."

"Then we follow it?" She glanced up at him.

Now that he and Diana were upright, it was plain to see that he had a bit more height on her, almost a foot. She was beautiful, the peach knee-length dress giving her some color that she didn't have in the hospital. Or maybe it was because she was free that she looked so much better. It didn't matter, although that kiss on the cheek stirred something that was better left alone, especially as long as the team was in danger. He still hadn't allowed himself adequate time to mourn Elsa. When everything was over, then he would probably hide himself away for awhile somewhere and just let it all out, using the four walls as his counselor.

He broke out of his reverie, noticed her staring at him, puzzling over his silence no doubt, and answered, "We'll go to the motel first and see what Jesse's got in mind." Diana stepped back, but Sam reached out for her and said, "He's still watching you. Let me take those bags."

Sam grabbed the silky handles in his right hand and put himself between Diana and the spying man. He placed his left hand at the small of her back and gently pushed her toward where he parked the car.

"You're armed," he said softly and smiled as he felt a lump beneath her white sweater. "That's good. How'd you manage that?"

She answered, "I had some things stashed in a locker nearby. I was amazed that I still had the key, since it's probably been two years or more since I last saw that locker. Even more amazing that my stuff was still in it."

"Did you check it to see if the gun still works?"

Diana glanced up over the rim of her sunglasses and smiled. "Of course, Sam. It's fine." Her eyes slid to take a peek over her shoulder, and she said, "He's still following us, moving faster."

"Relax. We're just a couple out shopping together." Sam's hand slipped from behind her to his side, where he found her hand. Capturing it in his, he gave it a squeeze. "See, honey?" He gave her a crooked smile, causing his dimple to flash.

Diana saw it and giggled. "You're cute when you do that." She twisted, rose up on the balls of her feet, and kissed his cheek.

Sam knew better than to protest or show any sign that her actions weren't normal. He chuckled as if he took pleasure in it. Over her head, he saw the pursuer slip past her, his long steps propelling him in front of them, and suddenly he was there holding them back with a hand. The couple frowned at him, not sure what he planned to do. He was bold to act in front of so many people.

The look on his face was one of torture as he asked, "Bethany, how can you do this to me?"

Diana's eyebrows rose over her sunglasses. She glanced at Sam, and he gave her a puzzled expression in return. "Bethany," she said with a perplexed tone. "I don't know who you're talking about."

The man, who appeared to be in his 30s, looked crestfallen that she didn't recall him. "Beth, please. It's embarrassing enough that I have to find you with this old guy..." He swallowed when Sam removed his sunglasses, put them into his shirt pocket, and gave him a searing look.

Before things spiraled out of control, Diana removed her sunglasses and eyed the man. "What's your name? I'm sorry, I'm not Bethany."

"It's me, Gary..." He fell silent when he got a good look at Diana without the glasses. His cheeks reddened. "Oh... oh wow, I'm... I am so sorry! I bet you thought I was some kind of stalker." His eyes darted between Diana and Sam and landed on her. "You look just like my wife with the sunglasses on. Wow, I'm sorry if I insulted you, sir..."

"It's okay," Sam mumbled. "Come on, Di, we've gotta move."

"Yeah. Well, Gary, I hope you find your wife," Diana said as she and Sam hurried to the car. When they were out of earshot, she said, "That was too weird. And too scary."

"I was ready to pull my piece if necessary," Sam said. "There was nothing to worry about."

"Maybe I do need a break from this spy life," Diana said. "If I'm seeing innocent civilians as potential threats, I'm getting paranoid."

"Except when you're in danger, being paranoid is smart," Sam admonished her. "So don't give it up now, not until we find Mike and Fi and Borovsky's men are under lock and key..."

"Or dead." Diana nodded.

"Yeah, whichever way this goes. I'm just concerned about getting my friends back." He located the car, unlocked the passenger side, and let her inside. He threw her bags into the back seat and trotted around to the driver's side.

"Sam?"

"Yeah," he replied as he started the car.

"Why does it smell like pepper steak and sesame chicken in here?" She wrinkled her nose and turned to him.

"Because I think I borrowed the car of a Chinese food delivery guy," he replied with a serious expression. "After I get you to the hotel, I'm returning it. I swear."

"Maybe you can get some shrimp lo mein on the way?" He gave her a look, and she replied, "Hey, I'm hungry! I haven't had a thing to eat since I broke out of the VA!"

He sighed and turned onto the street that would deliver them to the motel. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Sam. You're a great guy." She winked. "If we had time, we could just do a raid, but I have a feeling that when we get to your HQ, we'll have our hands full."

"Yes, we will." Just by herself she was a handful.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Diana met Madeline, got up to speed on the situation with the vehicle, and said, "This is great, but what are we going to do, just sit around and watch a red dot all day?"

"While Sam was gone getting you, the red dot stopped, and it's been in one place for awhile," Jesse replied. "If it doesn't move, one of two things happened: they ditched the car knowing it was being tracked, or they're at the hideout."

"Well do a satellite lookup of that area. How hard can that be," Diana asked.

"I know what I'm doing," Jesse responded, and Sam could see that she was already wearing on his nerves. Jesse didn't know Diana like he did.

Sam put a hand on Diana's arm. "Hey, Di, why don't we go get you something to eat? Maddie, you wanna come along?"

Maddie must have felt the tension between Diana and Jesse, but rather than escape it with the woman who caused it, she answered, "No thanks, I'll stay and keep Jesse company."

"Okay. We'll bring you back something." Sam led Diana to the door and led her out.

"Aren't you worried about someone staking out the place," she asked Sam as he closed the door behind him.

"No. We've been keeping an eye out on the street, and if someone's watching, they're doing a bang up job of it. None of us has seen anyone suspicious."

"Good." Diana fell into step with him and gazed at their feet. "It sure is good to be walking normally again, isn't it?" Her eyes moved up to lock with his. "To tell you the truth, there were times I never thought I'd see myself doing this."

"I didn't give up."

"I'm not saying I did," she retorted and looked away. She sighed heavily and said, "I'm sorry. And I'm sorry I ruffled some feathers back there. I guess that now that I'm back on my feet, I want to see this resolved as quickly as possible."

"We all do." Sam led her into a restaurant. The cafe's walls were open to let in the balmy air and sunshine. Otherwise, it would have been quite dim inside. Sam found a table farther back. It was cozy and intimate for the right couple, but he was only seeking a place to talk and eat without being discovered by their enemies.

After ordering, the two sat in silence. Sam watched her scanning the patrons with the keen eye of a spy. She studied them like Sam studied her. She must have sensed his stare, because she turned and confronted him.

"What's wrong, Sam?"

"Nothing," he answered and took a sip of his drink, an iced tea. After the mission was over, he'd try his first mojito, although he would be extremely cautious when imbibing it. He didn't want a replay of the last one. That memory caused him to frown.

"Oh, nothing, huh. Then why do you look so sad?" Diana's voice was soft and a tenderness Sam didn't expect came along with it. "Remembering Elsa? Does this place remind you of her?"

"Not really. But I am thinking about her." He admitted it reluctantly. In the hospital, Diana didn't seem to be the kind to dwell on the past. It was always about the future and what she would do when she got back out into the world.

"I know that one. I try not to think about Ray." She looked away for a moment, folded her arms on the table, and returned her gaze to Sam. "He was like my brother, you know? Every time I think of him it hurts, so I try not to, but it doesn't help. It only makes it worse, and then I get angry, and..." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Sam. You don't need to know about my problems."

"It's part of who you are, Di."

"The service in this place is really slow." She looked around for their server.

The corner of Sam's mouth tipped up. Deflection was the oldest trick in the book, and she pulled that one off terribly. He was about to say something to her about it when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw a text message. He read it, then reread it.

"Son of a... no way," Sam muttered.

"What?" Diana's head whipped around and she leaned into him to see the screen. Her brow furrowed. "Who's that from?"

"It's not coming from Mike's phone, but... it could only be from him." He stared at the line of text.

"It's a bunch of gibberish. Is it a code?" Her eyes locked with his.

Sam was so excited about the message that was a glimmer of hope, if she'd been someone else, he would have kissed her. But he restrained himself. Instead, he smiled and replied, "It is. If this is really from Mike, he gave me a clue to where he and Fi are."

"Well, what are we sitting around here for? Let's get going!" Diana jumped up from her chair.

Sam grasped her wrist and forced her to sit again. "Just wait. I texted back another code, and if I get the answer I want, then I know it's legit. Only Mike would be able to answer correctly."

Confused, she asked, "What's the answer?"

The screen flashed as a message arrived. "It's from Mike." He held it up for her to see.

"Krakow?"

"That's where Mike and I met for a staging area for our first mission together," Sam replied. The server brought their food to the table, and he said, "We'd like that to go."

The couple hurried back to the motel as fast as their legs could carry them. A little out of breath, Diana asked, "So, where is he? Where's your friend?"

"I'm hoping that when we get back we'll see that blip where it was before, because I want to see a satellite view of the place. Maybe there's a car parked in the area with the letters c,t, and w."

"I don't know. I would think it'd have to be something more stationary, like a business or a sign."

Sam opened the motel room door, let Diana in ahead of him, and asked, "Any progress?"

"The blip hasn't moved," Jesse replied and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. His back hunched, and he straightened to ease the tense muscles.

Diana sat on the bed, looking as if she was about ready to jump out of her skin with excitement. Glancing up at Sam, she prodded, "Well, aren't you going to tell them what you got, Sam?"

"I was." A slow smile spread across his face as he announced, "Mike sent me a message."

Between Jesse and Maddie, pandemonium erupted along with questions coming at him like strafing bullets. Sam held up his hands in an attempt to calm them. He waited until the two returned to their seats before he gave them the details.

"Okay, here's the message, Jess. It's a clue, not any specific coordinates." Sam showed him the screen. "Does this make sense to you?"

Jesse squinted as he read the screen. "Chili Tango West. That means nothing to me."

"I'm thinking if we can get a satellite view of the area where this blip is, maybe it will make more sense. You know, one of those street view things. I thought maybe it might have something to do with a license plate, but Diana thought maybe it referred to something more permanent." He gave her a smile.

Jesse tapped at the keys and an image appeared. "This is the building where the blip appeared to stop next to, but it doesn't have any signage on it."

"Can you look at the other side of the street," Diana asked. She moved to peer over Jesse's shoulder and pointed at the screen when the scene changed. "Ah, look there. See that, there's something on the side of that building. Back up on the street, I mean, go right, south, whatever."

Jesse gave her a look, shook his head, and glanced at Sam as if to ask where he found this woman. Sam only shrugged. Jesse moved the cursor to a point where the painted sign on the side of the building was more visible. A cartoon rendition of a chile wearing a smile and a sombrero danced on the right side. Its stylized hand pointed to the building across the street.

"Could Michael have found a more obvious sign," Maddie asked with a little laugh.

"I'd love to know how he even saw it. You'd think that Michael and Fiona would have been blindfolded on the trip to this place." Jesse shook his head. "I don't like this. I think it's a trap. These guys know we're looking for Mike and Fi, and they're setting us up."

"I agree with Jesse," Diana said, her hands clasping the edge of the mattress where she sat, her lips pressing together, and she continued, "It seems too easy. It might be a good idea if I go check it out."

"You're not going alone," Sam interjected.

"Is there anyone else who can go with me? I mean, anyone who wouldn't be ripe for the kidnapping if things went sideways?" Diana gave Sam a look. "I didn't think so."

"We don't know how many unfriendlies we're dealing with at this location, whether Mike and Fi are there, or ever were," Jesse protested. "We go together. End of story."

"I agree," Sam said, and turned to Maddie. "But you're staying here."

"You don't think I can't handle myself?" She planted a hand on her hip and gave Sam a look like the kind he'd seen her give Michael many a time when her son underestimated her. "If nothing else, I could drive the getaway car!"

"No," Sam shook his head vehemently. "Nate was…." He halted himself before he went too far, and all he had to do was see the look in Maddie's and Jesse's eyes to know that they knew what he was about to say.

Jesse spoke. "Sam's right, Maddie. It's too risky."

"I don't care. If I lose Michael, it won't matter anyway what happens to me."

Diana studied the three, not knowing the history behind their conversation. "I don't like getting a civilian involved," Diana said. She gave Maddie an apologetic look. "Sorry, Mrs. Westen, but it's not safe."

"You know the longer we sit here arguing, the more likely it is that these men will move Michael and Fiona if they still have them in this place," Maddie reasoned with a stubborn expression.

"She's got a point," Sam said with a sigh. "Okay, if we all go, we'll need a van."

Jesse and Sam went in search of a vehicle, and with a nice little financial incentive, a guy with a small courier van gave the two men the keys for the afternoon. "You can find me at the beach, man," he told Jesse as he grinned, slipped his sunglasses over his eyes, and turned away. "Just don't get it banged up or anything, okay? My boss'll kill me!"

"We'll bring it back as good as we found it," Jesse promised, although if he'd been inclined, he would have crossed his fingers behind his back.

Jesse drove the van to the motel, and he waited with it running while Sam went inside. Diana and Maddie were ready to leave. He and Diana flanked Maddie as the three crossed the street and got into the van.

"I have one question," Maddie said as she settled into the bench seat with Diana. "How many guns do you have for this operation?"

"Not nearly enough," Sam replied. "We're going to have to risk a visit to the loft to pick up some more."

"No need," Diana said. "I know where there's a weapons cache in town. It's on the way."

"The more I find out about you, the more I wonder if Fi wasn't cloned," Jesse declared in awe.

Diana smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment. Anyway, there's a stash in a house on San Pedro Court. It was a foreclosure, and it's been sitting there for years unoccupied. My partner Ray and I kept our domestic tools of the trade there."

"Alright, just give me the directions," Jesse said. "I hope the place is still unoccupied and your stockpile is secure."

"It is. At least it was a few months ago. Before I got shot, I stopped in to check on things, and it was all in order," Diana replied.

When Jesse arrived in the cul de sac, he parked with the back end of the van close to the garage door. Sam and Diana got out of the back, and she used her key to open the garage enough for the two to duck underneath and get inside. He followed her to a bedroom in the back of the house. The blinds were drawn, keeping out prying eyes. In the middle of the room and in the closet sat crates and boxes of ammunition, incendiary devices, smoke bombs, and a small selection of handguns and rifles.

"Jeez, you've got enough for a platoon here," Sam remarked as he scanned the room. Streaks of sunlight illuminated the containers. "I wonder if our government knows you kept all this." He smirked.

"I think you should be happy I didn't tell them about this cache." She looked as if she didn't appreciate the humor in his tone.

"I am." His expression turned serious as he said, "My friends and I are grateful you had this safe house."

"If we need to come back here after we grab Michael and Fiona, I have supplies in the other bedroom, cots, bedding, stuff like that. We'll just need food."

Sam nodded. "That's good to know." He hesitated and watched her picking up a few rifles, more than they needed. "Di, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." She straightened, holding the straps of three automatics over her shoulder.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you helping us? You don't even know Mike, or Fi…."

"I'm surprised at you, Sam. I thought we went all over this at the hospital." Hurt took up residence in her eyes. "My first aim is to take down Borovsky's men. Second, is to rescue your friends." She gave him a cocked smile. "I would think there's got to be some bragging rights for saving Michael Westen's butt."

Sam laughed. "I don't know. We've all saved each other more than once, and nobody's handing out any medals or anything."

"Just a few beers are reward enough, along with the glory of reliving the operation," she said with a smile. "Alright, I think we have enough stuff. Don't you?"

Sam grabbed boxes of ammunition and a case of bombs. "Yeah, if this isn't enough, we've got problems."

The two hurried out to the van, dumped the load into the back, and Diana locked the door before jumping in behind Sam. Jesse glanced at the booty, and his eyebrows rose as he whistled. Then he turned back to the steering wheel, started the van, and drove the team to the site where they believed they would find Michael and Fiona.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Jesse parked the van a block away in a spot where a delivery van didn't look out of place. The four gazed at the building, watching for any activity, but there was none. The car was gone.

"I hope we didn't miss them," Diana muttered and ran her thumb under her bottom lip.

"The only way we'll find out is if we go in," Jesse said. "Maddie, you better stay here and keep your head down and out of sight." He turned in his seat. "Sam?"

"I've got your weapons right here," Sam replied and gave Jesse a handgun and an automatic, both fully loaded. He armed himself, Diana picked out her own weapons, and stuffed a few flash grenades into a pack she slung across her hips. It reminded Sam of the one Fiona wore, only Diana's seemed to be more suited to combat.

"Are we ready," she asked.

"Can't get any more ready," Sam replied. "Once traffic clears, we'll go for it."

The road was well traveled, but it had its barren moments. The three got out of the van, and with one more admonition for Maddie to get down, Sam closed the back door and he and Diana rushed across the street with Jesse. Sam saw a path into some brush that extended around the back, and he waved the two over. With the cover, canvassing the building was a breeze. Besides a front door made of metal that looked impenetrable, a back door was the only way inside. Windows set high above the average person's eye level let in light.

"If you lift me up, I can peek in," Diana suggested. "Right there, where the window is mostly covered up by that bush."

"Stay here and cover us, Jesse." Sam dropped his rifle in the grass and crouched, scooting through the open space as quickly as possible, Diana matching him stride for stride.

Reaching the wall, Sam laced his hands together. Diana stepped into the foothold and he hoisted her. She stepped on his thigh and grabbed the window sill. Her head swiveled back and forth a couple times before she shifted and jumped down to the ground. She grimaced.

"You okay," Sam whispered.

Diana nodded. "Yeah, just jarred something. I'll be fine." She turned and ran back to the scrub, and Sam followed.

"Well, did you see anything?"

"I saw a woman with two men. The men had Mac10s, and the woman was tied up," Diana answered. "She was slim, long, dark hair. I couldn't see a lot of details because the window was dirty."

"What was she wearing," Sam asked.

"She had on a tank top and jeans, I think."

Sam shook his head. "I suppose after all this time they would have given Fi something else to wear. So what do you think, Jesse?"

"That door opens outward. If we had some det cord..."

"We do," Diana declared with a smug smile as she pulled out a coil and held it in the air.

Jesse's eyes locked on the cord, and he said, "Sam, I think she's even more prepared than Fiona."

Sam laughed softly. "I know. So let's use this to blow the door, then throw in a couple flash grenades, and one of us grabs Fi."

"Sounds like a good plan, except the car is back." Diana inclined her head toward the cracked and shifting parking lot pavement where the sedan stopped. Two men emerged, but no one else. "Okay, where's Westen?"

"Maybe he's in there and you didn't see him," Jesse suggested.

"Crap. That means we have to go do recon again," Diana spat.

"No. Nobody's going anywhere until those guys get to the door. Then we jump 'em," Sam said. He held his rifle at the ready until the two men stood near the door. He looked at Jesse to his left, and Diana to his right. "You two ready?"

"Yeah." Jesse nodded.

"I've been ready." Diana muttered.

"Okay. Now."

The three pushed out of the brush and converged on the two before they knew what hit them. Diana used the butt of her rifle to take down one, but the other reached for his gun. Two gun barrels aimed at his head made him pause. Diana reached for the gun and stripped it from his hands.

"Zip ties," Jesse whispered.

Diana smiled, nodded, and pulled out a couple from her bag.

"You can't do..." The prisoner tried to speak, but Sam pressed his gun deeper into the man's neck.

Diana reached out and grabbed his hand, put it behind his back and took the other, using the ties to join them. The man wore a suit, and her eyes stopped on a handkerchief sticking out of his pocket. She pulled it out, unfolded it, and used it as a gag.

Jesse and Sam forced him to walk to the car, where they popped the trunk with the keys he kept in his pocket, and they threw him inside. His compatriot joined him. Sam closed the trunk softly to avoid spooking the men inside.

"The door is unlocked," Jesse whispered. "So let's just throw in the flash grenades."

"Yeah, on three we go in," Sam said. He and Jesse held two canisters each. Diana put her hand on the doorknob. Sam nodded off the count, and on three she opened the door.

In an instant, total chaos reigned inside the building. Popping filled the air, the automatic weapons spitting bullets and smoke into the confined area. A woman screamed, followed by a light thump. Someone grunted, two thuds one after another, and the thee determined that the shooting was all one-sided. The smoke was thick, causing them to cough.

"Guys, you okay?" Diana searched in vain for Sam and Jesse.

"Yeah, I'm to your left," Jesse said. "I've got two guys down over here. One dead, the other, I don't know. He's still breathing, but that's all I can say."

"Sam? Sam?"

"I'm here. I found her." Another cough came from nearby and chorused with Sam's. "I've got her, now let's get out of here."

"We've gotta find Mike," Jesse said.

"We'll wait until the smoke clears a little," Sam said. He ran into something.

"Ow, that was me!" Diana exclaimed.

"Good. I need help with her." He hesitated to say Fiona until he knew for sure that she was positively identified.

Diana felt through the smog with her hands and found the woman slumped along Sam's left side. She found an arm and draped it over her shoulder. "Okay, I've got her left side. Let's go."

It was slow going getting out of the smoke. None of them thought they'd gone very far inside, but considering how long it took to find the back door, they must have been quite deep.

"What the... the door's locked," Jesse said. "We must be in the front, not the back." He felt for the latch, snapped it open, and opened the door. Daylight streamed inside. "Yeah, this is the front. Come on."

Maddie stayed down, but the trio saw her eyes above the window line when they exited the building. Sirens screamed in the distance gaining in strength. Sam blinked and looked southward.

"Fire engines are coming. Someone must have called it in."

"We better get out of here before they arrive. But we can't leave Mike behind," Jesse said.

"Is this Fiona," Diana asked.

"Yeah, it's Fi," Sam answered. "Mike's gotta be here somewhere."

"I didn't see him in there, did you," Diana asked. "I think he's gone, and those two guys in the trunk probably know where he's been taken." A determined set to her jaw told Sam she had a plan, and he probably wasn't going to like what it was.

"No, Di," he warned her.

She turned to Sam. "Where are those car keys?"

"Sam's got them," Jesse replied, taking over at Fiona's side when Diana passed her off to him.

"Sam, give me those keys. I don't wanna argue about this. Those sirens will be here any minute, and we can't be here when they arrive." She glared at him and held out her hand. "I'll drive them to the safe house, keep 'em tied up there, and we can interrogate them to find out where they took Michael."

Sam hesitated.

"Come on! You're wasting time," she yelled at him.

He could see she wouldn't back down. "Okay, fine, but I'm driving. Jesse, can you and Maddie take care of Fi and get her to the safe house?"

"Sure thing," Jesse replied. "We'll meet you there."

"Thanks." Sam turned Fiona over to Jesse, who scooped her up under the knees and carried her across the street. The smoke was beginning to attract gawkers, so the sooner they escaped, the better.

"Alright, let's blow this joint," Sam said and rushed for the car with Diana hot on his heels.

She got in, he put the car in reverse, and shot out of the parking lot. He turned north to throw off the witnesses, and he and Diana rode around the north side of town until he had to stop for gas. Between the two of them, they scrounged up enough to fill the tank.

"Think we've thrown off any potential followers," Sam asked as he got into the driver's seat.

"I sure hope so. Our friends are starting to wake up in the trunk." Thumping sounds and muffled shouts proved her statement to be true.

"We better get to the safe house, then."

"Jesse and Maddie will probably be waiting when we get there. I just hope the neighbors don't get squirrely about a strange van in their cul de sac."

"We'll get rid of it as soon as we can," Sam assured her. "First, we have to worry about our guests and Fiona."

When Sam pulled into the driveway, as Diana predicted, Jesse and Maddie waited for them. Diana unlocked the garage and the men pulled both vehicles inside. Fortunately, the door didn't have any windows, so nosy neighbors wouldn't have an easy time of looking to see the contents. Jesse carried Fiona to the second bedroom where Diana quickly arranged a cot for her. While Diana and Maddie attended to Fiona, Jesse and Sam extracted the prisoners from the trunk and set them up in a couple of folding chairs in the third bedroom. Tied together and linked to the chairs, they had no way of getting out. The room was barren of anything but the chairs and the men. Jesse closed the door behind him and Sam as they left, and he locked it. It was a pitiful lock but it would serve as a warning if one or both tried to escape through that route.

"We should probably have shifts watching them," Sam said. "No doubt they're trying to saw their way out of those heavy duty ties right now."

"I'll take first watch," Diana said, jumping up and grabbing her rifle. "You guys have your reunion with your friend." She smiled at Sam, a melancholy twitch of her lips. As she passed him, she whispered, "I really wish we could have rescued Michael at the same time."

"Me too, Di." She brushed past, and he touched her arm. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." The smile was warmer as she turned away and walked down the hall to the room where the men were detained.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Diana's smile wiped away with every step toward the closed bedroom door. She had business with these two whom she knew as Viktor and Leonid. She was never around them long enough to remember their last names, and it never mattered. But now the two were captured, and Borovsky and Jorsh, his second in command, were dead and captured respectively. She didn't care about the status of the other two lackeys left behind at the site where they found Fiona. In her mind, Vik and Leo were the only two left. It was time to get chummy again and maybe they would give up Westen. She unlocked the door and opened it. Her stony gaze fell on Vik and Leo, their bodies wriggling in an attempt to free themselves.

"Careful, you might cut off the circulation," she said to them in Russian.

"Diana, what are you doing with these people," Viktor asked with a shaky voice in his native tongue. "Why did you leave us? Was it that man, that spy?" The way he said it, Viktor made it sound like a dirty word.

"That spy was my partner Ray," Diana answered as she took a few steps and came around to face him. "All the time I was with you and Mikhail and the others, I was spying for the U.S., but I was... exploring my options." She smirked. "You never picked up on that, huh."

"Mikhail suspected," Leo said, looking at her over Viktor's shoulder. "But he could not believe it was true."

By the look of sadness on Leonid's face she understood, and the pieces of the past fell into place. Diana nodded. "I see. I thought he was in love with me, but he was always too busy with the mission to pay me much attention. That's okay, since the feeling was hardly mutual," she said with a serious tone as she examined a cracked nail. She shrugged and slapped the rifle barrel into her hand. "Oh well, doesn't matter. You guys should be more worried about what Sam and Jesse are going to do to you if you don't cough up where Michael Westen is."

"We don't know." Leo's answer was too quick.

"Come on, Leo, we're buddies. At least, we were. I did you a lot of favors, didn't I?" She smiled and left Viktor to face him, getting down to his level, yet keeping her rifle where she could whip it around and shoot him right in the heart if necessary. She would have to be careful, because the way the two men were lined up, if she shot Leo, the bullet would take out Vik too, and then she would never know where Michael was. Her eyes held ice while her lips gave him a warm smile. "Remember all that American candy I got you for your girlfriend and her daughter? How about that doll I got for your kid for her birthday? That wasn't easy, my friend."

"You were a friend. Friends do these things," Leo said, grasping for something to appease her. "I appreciate it very much."

"And what did you do for me, huh, Leo? Not a thing. Oh wait, I know." She got close to his face with hers and ground out, "You killed my partner. That's the thanks I got." She straightened and kept pacing around them. "Where I come from, that's not buddies. Friends don't do that to friends, kill their other friends."

"He was a threat," Vik said in a vain attempt to justify their actions. He looked up at Diana and she gazed down at him as she leveled the gun at his body. The butt touched his upper chest an inch from his heart, and he gasped. "Please, don't kill us. We didn't want to do what Mikhail wanted."

Leo nodded, his head bobbing to the rhythm of his words. "Viktor is right. He threatened us, our families. We had no choice!"

"We did not want to take Westen and his girlfriend. Mikhail ordered us to do it," Vik added.

"Mikhail is dead. Ray and I killed him ourselves," Diana pushed out through gritted teeth.

Vik looked into her eyes as he said, "This is bigger than Mikhail. Michael Westen was a wanted man. We took him and the woman..."

"Did you make his mother a virtual prisoner in her own home?" Diana queried. "Did you bug her place, and put that bracelet on her ankle?"

"Yes. We did that with Ivan and Bruno. Where are they?" Vik asked.

"Either dead or in police custody by now. So you better keep talking or we may turn you over to the cops. You're better off having a... friend... ask you questions than the police."

The two men scoffed. Vik said, "We hear stories about these American policemen. They are pansies."

"If your buddies talk first, just wait and see how they treat you. Don't kid yourselves, they'll rip you to shreds to get the truth." A knock on the door interrupted her, and Diana moved to open it, keeping her eyes on the two the entire time.

"How are things going in here," Sam asked barely above a whisper.

"They're morons but they're smart enough not to talk," she replied.

"Need some help?"

Sam looked like he was eager to bust a couple of heads. Since it was his best friend who was missing, she couldn't blame him. "Sure, come on in." She turned back to the two captives. "Sam, meet Vik and Leo." She aimed the gun at each one as she introduced them. "Guys, this is Sam. English, Russian, doesn't matter which way you go. He'll understand you."

In English, Sam spoke. "Mind getting me up to speed here, fellas? I understand that you and Diana have a... relationship. But I don't know you guys from anybody else. All I know is that you've got my friend somewhere, and I want him back."

"I was just trying to remind my friends how I did things for them with no payback. Now it's time to give... before they give with their lives," she said.

"Very reasonable terms if I say so," Sam said.

Diana nodded and turned to her captives. "So, let's go back to our little discussion about Michael Westen and why you took him. Mikhail was dead, so who wanted him?"

Vik and Leo remained silent. "You know I really hate it when prisoners play this game," Sam said with a heavy sigh as he glanced at Diana. "We might have to get Mike's Ma in here." He turned to Vik and Leo. "Trust me, you do not want to piss off Michael Westen's mom. She'll get the information from you, but it won't be pleasant."

"We're pussy cats compared to Madeline Westen," Diana agreed. "So, you guys might as well just get it off your chests, and we'll put in a good word when we turn you in to the CIA..."

Diana and Sam caught the looks the two men exchanged at the mention of the agency. "I am sorry," Vik finally said, his eyes downcast. "We cannot talk."

"Okay," Sam drew out on a breath. "Your choice. Come on, Di. We'll get Maddie in here."

"You don't understand, Diana," Leo cried out as the two reached the door. Diana and Sam turned to look at him with interest. "There are people in the Ukraine who will kill us if we tell where Westen is and what is their plan for him."

"You're going to die either way," Sam said as he took a step closer and raised his gun. "So you tell us, and maybe, if your intel is good and we find him, our government might make a deal with you. If not... who knows what'll happen."

"You may not make it out of here, or the government will hunt you down. Hey, maybe your friends in the Ukraine will kill you. Either way, you're dead." She softened her tone. "Come on guys, help us out, and I promise we'll put in good word for you. Maybe even get you protection or something." She paused.

Leo blinked. "We took Westen to a man named Sterling. He is an American with interests in various parts of the country. Many years ago, Westen destroyed his plans, and now he wants revenge."

"All this for some revenge? You've gotta be kidding me," Sam exclaimed. "My fiancee is dead because some guy wanted to get back at Mike? That doesn't make sense!" Sam took two steps and grabbed a handful of Leo's shirt, lifting him up, forgetting that he was tied to Vik and the chair. Leo cried out in pain.

"I tell you the truth! I don't know what you are talking about. All I know is, we were supposed to take Westen and his girlfriend at Carlito's on your Thanksgiving holiday. We had drug put into their drinks, but it didn't work." Leo gasped as Sam dropped him onto the chair. He took a few breaths and continued. "It was not easy, but when Ivan threatened to kill the girl in front of him, he gave in."

Sam shook his head, finding the entire scenario hard to believe. "You've had him for two months. Where were you?"

"We had difficulty contacting Sterling. We kept the two in the location where you found us."

Sam's mouth had a hard set to it. "You're lying. Nobody could keep Mike that long without him trying to escape!"

"Most likely they were kept drugged enough to remain submissive," Diana said. "Am I right, boys?"

"Yes," Vik finally spoke. He looked at Sam. "If Westen did not get the drugged drinks..."

"My fiancee and I did," Sam replied with a cold, menacing tone. "Only I didn't drink all of mine. Elsa did. But what I did drink incapacitated me and now she's dead, and I spent almost two months in the hospital recovering and learning how to walk again." As he spoke, his voice rose. "You two are lucky I don't just kill you right now with my bare hands. That's the best you deserve."

"Sam." Diana put a calming hand on his arm. "Maybe you better go cool off. I'll finish up in here."

Sam looked at Diana, then the prisoners, and returned his attention to her. He nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I need some fresh air." He lumbered out of the room, shaking his head. Diana watched him leave with misty eyes. With the flurry of activity to find Michael, he'd been allowed to forget about what happened to Elsa. As the pieces started coming together, his loss came to the forefront again. Her heart ached for him.

"Alright, you gave Michael to Sterling. Where is he?" Neither of the men answered. "We're playing hard ball now, are we? Well you know I can play that game too." She pulled back her hand and let the back fly across Vik's face. It hurt her, but no doubt made a greater impact on her captive. A trickle of blood rolled down the corner of his mouth. "Believe it or not, Sam likes to be a nice guy when it comes to interrogation. Don't touch the prisoners, just threaten them convincingly. Me, I like to knock people around a little. Let 'em know that this is a picnic compared to what they're getting later if they don't talk."

Vik and Leo watched her as she rested the rifle against the wall, pulled out her sidearm and caressed it from the barrel tip to the safety, which she unlatched. She'd been ruthless before, they knew it. By the look in Leo's eyes, she knew he was calculating how hard it would be to break free and get to the rifle to defend himself. Vik held his emotions in check. He was always the tougher of the two.

Diana approached Vik and pressed the cool metal up to the middle of his forehead. "Last chance, Vik. Do you really want to leave your family behind?" The corner of her mouth quirked up. "I remember how proud you were of them, how you loved them. If you still love them, I'm sure you'd want to go home alive rather than in a body bag." She glanced down at his chest and noticed that he wore a chain. On the end of it, a small pendant that she knew held the picture of his family.

She yanked it off, ignoring Vik's scream of protest. Opening it, she smiled at the photograph and turned it so he could see it. "Think about it. This is the last look you'll get of them if you don't give up Sterling's location. I'll give you until three, then all talk is over and you can say goodbye." Diana snapped the case closed and straightened. "One." She aimed the gun at him. "Two."

"Alright," Vik said with a tone that indicated he still wasn't sure which was the lesser evil, giving the information and living only to die when Sterling found out he told, or to die at Diana's hands. "Sterling has a boat. A yacht called the Quicksilver. It is docked in Miami, but by now, who knows where it could be? We took Westen there a few hours ago."

"Where in Miami is it docked," Diana asked.

"Not far from Carlito's. The original plan was to drug Westen and his girlfriend, take them to the boat immediately. But we have trouble with Westen, and Sterling had business come up, so we were told to control him for awhile." Leo revealed. "Sterling came back to Miami today, so we moved him."

"I bet he's pretty ticked that Fiona isn't with Michael," Diana said.

Leo shrugged. "I don't know. He really wanted Westen. Fiona... the woman..."

"Was leverage." Diana nodded. She turned on her heel toward the door and picked up the rifle. "Thanks a lot, guys. I'll be back."

Diana left the room and passed the bedroom where they put Fiona on the cot. She was awake and talking softly with Sam and Maddie. She stopped in the doorway, and Fiona's eyes went up to her. Diana gave her a soft smile.

Sam smiled at Diana and beckoned her into the room. She approached slowly. "Hey, Di, this is Fiona. Fi, this Diana. She's a burned spy, just like Mike."

"My condolences on your state," Fiona said with a solemnness in her voice.

"Thanks." Through their many hours together, Sam told Diana about the past few years and how hard it was on everyone. "I found out where Michael was taken. There's a yacht called the Quicksilver moored in Coconut Grove, pier five, at the end. I don't know if it's still there, but that's where Vik and Leo took Michael this afternoon."

"We don't have much time to get there," Sam said as he stood. "Maddie, will you be okay staying here with Fi and our prisoners? We should have Jesse stay too."

"But you know Sterling's going to have a whole bunch of guys watching Michael," Diana said. "We need as much manpower as we can get."

"I can go," Fiona said as she stood. "It's not like I've been injured. Just a little disoriented after being in captivity." Her smile, directed at Diana, was laced with a covetous light in her eyes. "I hear you have an arsenal in this house."

"Yeah." Diana's smile turned into a grin. "Come on, you can have your pick." She led Fiona out of the room, leaving Sam and Maddie alone.

"Maddie, do you think that Fi is really ready to do this," he asked her with doubt written on his face.

"She's fine, Sam. She needs Michael to be safe, and I know if you try to hold her back, she'll find a way to get involved." Maddie patted Sam's arm. Adding a smile, she said, "You're better off not trying."

"Yeah," Sam replied with a long sigh. "I suppose you'll want to go along."

"What about your two friends?"

Sam thought for a moment. "We're taking them with us. They might be useful."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Seeing the Quicksilver at the end of the dock made everyone relieved, but whether there was anyone one board remained to be seen. Sam and Diana worked recon by walking the next pier to the left. Walking side by side, close enough to appear as a couple, the two pretended to be focused on each other but stole glances at the yacht.

"I don't see anyone," Sam announced into his earpiece to Jesse and Fiona, who waited at the van with the prisoners. Maddie stayed in the van's seat ready to drive away if necessary.

"Sam, that boat over there. See those people? Maybe they can give us some information," Diana said as she stretched her chin toward a large boat moored directly opposite of the Quicksilver.

"Let's go find out." He wanted to pick up the pace, but any sudden moves might tip someone off that they were being watched. He and Diana reached the end of the pier and the three people hanging out on the smaller yacht's deck. Grinning, Sam said, "That's some boat. My wife and I were thinking of putting ours in this marina, but we were wondering... what kind of people are out here."

"I'm not sure I follow you," the man, who looked like he shopped only at the best menswear stores, spoke.

"Well, take for instance that guy over there." Sam leaned his head toward the Quicksilver. "I mean, what kind of guy puts a boat that big in here?"

"I don't know. I hear he's some big Russian mob boss, but..." the guy shrugged, "Who knows how much of that is true?"

"Do you see him a lot?"

"If you're worried, we don't see any trouble out here from the mob. They have parties on the yacht now and then, and it goes out at least once a week, but that's about all I know. And there's been a lot of activity over there the past couple of months." He smiled. "But nothing you'd have to worry about."

Sam nodded. "So you don't ever get to know the neighbors that much, huh?"

The man snorted. "People come and go all day, mister. My wife and I retired early, so we spend a lot of time on our yacht and see everything that goes on while we're here."

Glancing at Diana, Sam turned back to the guy. He weighed his options and decided to try one last question. He pulled out his wallet, dug in deep and found an old picture of himself with Michael. "Have you seen this guy over there at all?"

The man took the photo from Sam and studied it, and the amount of time he took gave Sam some hope. He scratched his cheek and returned the photograph. "Yeah, now that guy looks kind of familiar." Without warning he snatched the photo back and turned to the dark haired woman standing on deck talking with a younger man. "Lisa, do you remember seeing this guy over on the yacht? He looks familiar."

"Yes, we saw him this afternoon," she replied. "He looked older, and I think he had a bruise or something on his face. I told Ken I thought that was kind of odd." She looked at her husband and back to the photograph. "Honey, what's going on?"

"I don't know, sweetie, but this man appears to be looking for his friend." He took the photograph, turned back to Sam and said, "Isn't that right? You're not here to look for a slip. You're looking for him."

"Yeah," Sam admitted. "He's been kidnapped."

The man's eyes slid toward the Quicksilver and flitted back to Sam. "If that's the case, the two of you are outgunned and outmanned. There's a staff of maybe a dozen on that boat, and a lot of them are armed."

"Don't worry, we have help." Sam's eyes wandered to the yacht. "Have you seen anyone over there lately?"

The man shook his head. "They dropped this guy off around, oh, three thirty or so, two guys did, and then they left. Your friend disappeared inside the yacht and I haven't seen anyone since." He eyed Sam. "Frankly, I think you're crazy if you think you're going to get your friend off that boat. But if you're determined to do it, let me know so we can get our craft out of here."

"Well then," Sam said with a smile, "You better set sail now, because in a little while, we'll be storming that thing."

"Alright. You're crazy, mister. Good luck."

"Thanks. We'll need it."

Sam and Diana moved at a casual pace back to the van, watching the Quicksilver for any activity. The sun was beginning to set, so if they waited a couple of hours, they would have darkness on their side. It would also allow them time to prepare, and for the civilian who assisted them a chance to get out to sea. Jesse and Fiona stood on the far side of the van waiting.

"Well," Jesse asked, impatience in his tone.

Sam related everything the yacht owner told him. "I think we need to wait until nightfall and make our move then. That'll give us a chance to go back to the loft and dress for the part. Since we've got the last two of Borovky's guys, unless someone else is watching us, we'll be able to go there and change." Sam paused, glancing at Maddie. "Maybe we should drop you off, Maddie. This could get really dangerous."

"And what about your friends," Maddie jerked a thumb at the two in the back.

"They're coming with us as leverage, remember," Jesse said. "Fi and I will handle them. Sam, you and Diana head up the assault?"

"Oh yeah," Diana answered with enthusiasm.

"Alright then. We'll go back to the loft, prepare for this, and then come back when it's dark." Jesse got into the van, and Sam and Diana took the car to the loft.

Diana didn't have anything black, and she wasn't as petite as Fiona, but some of Michael's dark clothing fit her well enough for the mission. She rolled up the sleeves and tucked the pant legs into boots that fit as well as combat boots could fit. Sam had clothes at the loft, and Jesse only needed a shirt to fit in with the stealth team. No one spoke while preparing, as if it would break the spell of the gravity of what they were about to do.

Viktor and Leonid watched from their perch on the bed with looks of amusement. "You really think you will surprise Sterling and his men," Viktor asked.

"We're certainly going to try," Diana replied as she put on a belt with compartments for ammunition and her side arm. She looked around at the others finishing up the last of their preparations. Then she moved toward a window and, not getting too close to it, looked outside. "It's almost dark. By the time we get there, it should be prime time."

"Everybody ready," Sam asked. With nods all around, he said, "Alrighty, then. Let's go get Mike."

As he drove Diana and himself to the yacht, Sam wondered what they would find. It wasn't like Mike to just put up with being held captive. There must be a reason that he didn't fight back. The woman on the other yacht said said he was bruised, so maybe if he'd been knocked around a lot, maybe he was too injured to resist. Or they had him drugged. Whatever kept him docile could make a difference in how the team extracted him. How many men were on board certainly was a factor. Too many unknowns for his taste.

"We'll have to do some recon before we go in," Diana said as if she'd read his mind. "I'm not liking this, storming in without an idea of what we're up against."

"Me neither. I'm just worried that Vik and Leo are going to give us up."

"Duct tape works wonders for that, you know," Diana said with a smile that Sam saw in the glow from the dash.

"It does." He laughed, but quickly turned sober. "Jeez, I really wish we had more manpower. I hate bringing those two guys on board with us, but even more I hate the idea of leaving them with Maddie."

"Why, are you afraid she'll shoot them if they give her too much trouble?" She joked, but her voice gave her away with a slight tremor.

"I just don't wanna take the risk. Mike's already lost one family member." He glanced at Diana.

"And so has she," Diana countered and sighed. "No matter how we look at it, it's dangerous. I really think leaving these two guys with her is the lesser of two evils. I know these guys a bit, and one thing I'm sure of: if you intend to use them as shields or whatever, it's a bad idea. They're unpredictable, and we don't need that with so many unknowns."

"Yeah, you're right." Sam let out a sigh of resignation and dialed Jesse. "Jess, when we get there, keep the prize inside with Mama Bear. We're going it alone."

"Understood. We were just discussing that," Jesse replied.

"Great minds think alike," Sam said. "Meet you there."

The van was waiting when Sam parked to the left. The team prepared their gear, using the vehicles as shields. Diana peered over the sloped hood and checked out the other craft bobbing in the calm waves.

"Sam, there's a small boat down there by the promenade," she reported. "If we can get in that thing and paddle out there slow and easy, maybe we can get an eye on what's going on. Even better, maybe spy into a porthole or two."

"That's a good idea," Jesse said. "Fi and I will wait for a signal from you and then approach the yacht ready to kick some butt."

"I'll text you with whatever we find," Sam said.

"Good luck," Fiona said. In the light from a streetlamp, Sam saw the rest of what she wanted to say written on her face: be careful, and don't do anything that gets Michael killed.

He nodded, and together he and Diana stuck to the shadows to reach the boat. It had a motor, but they didn't use it. Sam and Diana boarded it along with their gear. Diana untied the ropes, Sam grabbed a paddle and handed her one, and the two worked to propel the boat closer to the yacht without being detected. City lights and lamps on the docks lit up the area, but they stuck to the middle of the lane between the piers where it was darker. From the shore, Jesse and Fiona watched with night vision binoculars. Maddie kept an eye and a Mac 10 on the two men in back.

The boat slipped past the yacht, and Sam steered it into a sharp trajectory to run alongside it. Close enough to almost touch, he heard voices above. Diana put out her hands and pressed agains the hull to make sure they didn't collide with it and make noise. They were stopped, waiting for the two men to go away. If one or both happened to look down, Sam and Diana would be looking directly into their eyes. But they smoked cigarettes and mumbled in Russian, not paying attention. Sam could have sworn aloud, but he restrained himself. There were more Russians involved.

"Hey, you two get ready," another man spoke in Russian. "Mr. Sterling is ready to leave. It is time to take Westen to his final destination."

"How soon are we going," one of the men asked in a lazy tone.

"A few minutes. The engines are being prepared." At that moment, the engines came to life. Water churned at the stern. "Come on, put those things out and go back down to watch him."

"He's out, and besides, what's he going to do once we're on open water?"

"Heh, don't be surprised. He's a slippery one, that Westen. Don't underestimate him."

Sam heard the three walk away from the side. Something hot touched his sleeve, and he brushed it away, realizing that one of the scumbags threw a lit cigarette over the side. Ignoring the temporary burn, Sam texted Jesse. "Boat leaving 5min or so. Di & I boarding."

The response came almost immediately. "Is Mike onboard?"

Diana didn't see the message, but she pulled them forward enough to look into a porthole. She stayed back from the light spilling out through it and gave Sam a thumbs up. She saw Michael. He nodded and responded, "Yes. Target seen." Diana pantomimed something about his temple, cheek and arm, which he relayed by saying, "Mike injured. Boarding now."

Sam tucked his phone into a pocket along his thigh, snapped it shut, and with a nod to Diana stood and grabbed the rail. He had a pack on his back, a sidearm, and an automatic weapon slung across his back. It took some effort to pull himself up, and seeing Diana struggling as well gave him a little pleasure. At least he wasn't the only one who needed to work out more.

Two pairs of feet landed on the deck with a soft thump. By the time the first guards came to investigate the noise, Diana and Sam were in the stern and ready. She landed a chop and a few blows with the butt of her gun before taking the one man down. He dropped to the deck and remained motionless. Sam took out his assailant and laid him out not far from Diana's opponent.

The yacht began moving away from the dock as Jesse and Fiona arrived. The two leaped over the widening gap, landing and rolling back to their feet. Sam quirked an eyebrow. "Showoff," he muttered to Jesse who flashed him a grin.

"Look out!" Fiona warned and took a step around Jesse to fire at a guard who came from the side of the yacht. He tumbled over the rail and sank into the dark water.

It was too late now. Anyone on the yacht who was determined to keep Michael Westen a prisoner until the captain reached his destination came out of hiding. The four fought three men and took them down one by one. Diana took the opportunity to slip down the stairs into the bowels of the ship. A long narrow hall led to a large room at the end, guarded by one big, muscular man.

Seeing someone he didn't recognize, the guard held up his weapon. Diana was quicker, and she got off one shot before he could touch his trigger. On the second hit, he went down with his weapon firing wildly for a few shots before his dead hand released the pressure. Diana stepped over him and tried the door. Of course it would be locked. No matter. She could break it down. Stepping back as far as she could with gargantua in her way, she took a run, leaped, and slammed both feet into it. She only succeeded in jarring her back and landing on top of the brute's legs.

"Di, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Sam. That door is tough," she replied while getting back up to her feet.

Without warning, the door to her left opened and an arm thrust out, grabbing Diana by the neck and turning her to collide with the chest of a strong man about Sam's height. He grinned at them. "You must all be Michael Westen's friends. Come to join the party?"

"We just came to get what's ours," Sam replied. "We want our friend back."

"I'm afraid I paid a very high price for him, and I'm not giving him up to the likes of you." He struggled with Diana, who squirmed and attempted to get out of his grip. He tightened the presure on her throat. "Uh uh, you're just making things worse by doing that."

Jesse and Fiona came downstairs and met the trio in the way of Michael's prison. Over Sam's shoulders, they aimed at Sterling.

"You three really are determined to get your friend, at the cost of Diana's life?"

"How do you know her," Sam asked.

"She used to work for me. But then I discovered that she would rather be a patriot for the good old US of A than a mercenary." He looked down at her. "You should have just let that bullet take you, Diana, when I shot you in the back."

The look of black hatred in her eyes was unlike anything Sam had seen in a woman before. Not even Fi had ever been so angry. She fainted in Sterling's arms, and when he loosened his hold to let her drop to the floor, Sam knew the man had just made a huge mistake. In one fluid movement, Diana regained her footing and came up with her elbow. She hit the target of his larynx with such force, everyone heard the air rush out of his lungs. He gasped and grabbed at his throat while Diana turned, placed her hand around his throat and squeezed while pushing him against the wall. A knife flashed in her left hand.

"Di, no!" Sam called to her, but her attention stayed on Sterling.

The man's eyes begged her not to kill him. She stared into them, her mouth twisting into a jagged bow of determination that she would not exact her revenge. With a gutteral cry, she held up the blade and brought it down into his thigh. Sterling screamed and collapsed to the floor, unable to flee even if he wanted to.

Panting, Diana said to Sam, "Someone better tell the captain to turn this heap around and get us back to port."

"I'll go," Jesse said. He turned and ran up the steps.

"Let's get that door unlocked," Sam said. He and Diana worked on kicking and pushing until the door gave way in a hail of splinters. Through the opening, Michael sat in a chair staring at them.

"Michael!" Fiona squeezed past the two and ran to him, untying his bindings, rubbing the circulation back into his limbs, and caressing the bruised areas of his face as she mumbled sweet words of love to him.

When he could move his arms again, Michael spoke her name. "Fi." He took her into his arms and kissed her with a passion that spoke of how afraid he was that he would never see her again.

"Aww, isn't that sweet," Diana said with a soft, reverent tone, a smile on her face. She sighed and leaned against the door frame.

"Hey, come on, let's give these two a little space," Sam admonished with a whisper, grasping her elbow and turning her away from the couple. "Good to see you again, Mikey."

Michael waved a hand weakly while he kissed Fiona. Sam knew what that meant. He tilted his head toward the stairs, a silent signal to Diana that they should leave. The two stepped over Sterling, who lay helpless on the floor, moaning, with Diana's knife still in his thigh.

None of them realized that not everyone had been neutralized on the ship. One last man came out of the shadows with a gun. Seeing the barrel locked onto Michael and Fiona, Diana shouted, "No!" Her gun came up the same time as Sam's, and the two fired on the one. Several rounds later, the man lay unmoving on the floor.

Sam lowered his gun as he dropped to the floor. Unsure if they had any more surprises, he kept his gun out even as he reached for Diana. She shook in his arms, the wound in her upper right chest her reward for trying to block both Michael, Fiona, and Sam.

"Sam," Michael said, and Sam looked up at him.

"Mike, it's bad. We need this yacht to get back to port now!"

Fiona slipped past the couple on the floor and hurried up the stairs. Michael said, "Hang on, I'll see if there's anything on board in the way of medical supplies."

"Sam," Diana wheezed. "It's okay. I'm... I'm gonna be okay." She shivered. "You'll see."

"Damn straight," he responded with a shaky voice. "After all you did, there's no way we're going to let you die. Just hang in there, Di. Hang in there." He used the warmth of his body to try to keep her from going into shock.

"We're almost to the dock," Fiona announced down the stairs. "I've called 911, and an ambulance is meeting us there."

"See?" Sam grinned at her. "I told you we wouldn't let you go."

"Yeah." She shook so violently her teeth began to chatter. "And... and I thought... getting shot in the back was bad." Her body went slack in Sam's arms.

"No, Di." Sam reached for her neck and felt her pulse, but she stopped breathing. "Mike, did you find anything?"

"No, but we're there. We've gotta get her up on deck." He bent and reached for Diana's legs.

"Mike, no. I've got her." Sam put his arms underneath and lifted Diana. She was like a rag doll lolling limply in his grasp, but he shifted her weight and hurried up the stairs. A gurney waited on the dock with two paramedics. He handed Diana to them, and they laid her on the crisp white sheet that her bleeding body soiled on impact.

"She's not breathing," Sam reported.

Within seconds Diana was being rolled down the pier to the waiting ambulance, and Sam made a move to go after her. Michael held him back. "Sam, it's okay. We'll get to the hospital and you can see her there."

Breathing hard, Sam looked at him. "She saved our lives, Mike. I... I can't abandon her."

"You're not abandoning her. Come on, let's go." Michael put an arm around Sam's shoulders and led him away with Jesse and Fiona close behind. The captain of the ship was left behind with an unconscious, injured boss and a yacht full of incapacitated and dead men to explain to the authorities who streamed onto the ship.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Approaching the door, Sam knocked. It was open, but he didn't know if it was safe to enter. The day before, the nurses told him that Diana had been in a cranky mood. He'd been through that before, and he knew the best cure was to leave her alone to get over it. He knocked again.

"Who is it," she said with a gruff voice.

"It's me, Sam. I brought Mike and Fi along." He answered and stepped in far enough for her to see him. "If you're not up for it..."

"Yeah, come on in." She took a breath, coughed, and grimaced.

"Are you in a lot of pain," Sam asked as he sidled up to her bed, reaching out to pick up her hand under the guise of friendship, but feeling her pulse and the strength of her fingers grasping his. He'd been by often enough to know if she was having a good day or not based on how hard she squeezed his hand. Her grip was light. He didn't like that.

Michael and Fiona stopped at the foot of her bed. Diana turned her attention from Sam and focused on them. A light smile crossed her lips. "How are you guys?"

"We're fine," Fiona replied and gave her a genuine, grateful smile. "We've been worried about you."

Her left hand rose, flapped in the air, and dropped to the bed with a soft thump. "Don't mind me. I just..." She halted and took a few breaths. "Sorry, it's still hard to... talk a lot."

"You've been through a lot the past couple weeks," Michael said. "You almost died, and you were in ICU for over a week with pneumonia, so you're pretty fortunate to be breathing as well as you are."

"Yeah. Anyway, I just want to know that you're both safe." She looked at the couple with tears blurring her vision. She wasn't one to get emotional like that, but after Sam told her about the intensity of the love between Michael and Fiona, she couldn't help it. She'd wished for that kind of love all her life, but her work always got in the way.

"Everything is okay with us," Michael replied, smiling. "My mom said she wants to have you over as soon as you're well enough. She wants to cook for you."

"She does?" Diana glanced warily at Sam, and her gaze slipped back to Michael. "I helped put the poor woman in danger!"

"No more than we have," Fiona said with a smirk. "It'll be nice to have a chance to sit down with you, and really get to know you, Diana. Sam has already told us quite a bit." She turned her eyes toward Sam and smiled as if she held some sort of secret.

"He did. Oh boy, I'm in trouble." Diana closed her eyes.

"Hey, I said nothing but the truth," Sam defended himself. He watched her as she lay with her eyes closed. "Di?"

"I think she's asleep," Michael said. "We should probably go."

"Yes, we should," Fiona agreed.

"I'm going to stay here awhile, keep her company," Sam declared and pulled a chair closer to the bed.

"Okay, well, we'll see you later, then." Michael put a hand behind Fiona's back and led her to the door.

"Yeah, later, Mikey. Fi." After two weeks, it should have been easier to watch his two friends walk out the door without worrying about whether he would see them again. They'd all been through too much. Thank God the government put Michael on the do not touch list, and he was doing what he should have done months ago: he was weighing his options, deciding whether to return to the CIA or stay a civilian and open up a private investigation business. Sam hoped that when Diana was able, she could help him and Fi lean Michael toward the private sector.

In the meantime, the only thing on his mind was Diana. Elsa was gone almost three months, and he still froze up in grief now and then when he thought of her. But it hurt less and less all the time. Having Diana around to care about helped. Whether or not she could take Elsa's place, he wasn't prepared to determine that yet. He liked her. On so many levels they were alike, and he enjoyed the healthy competition between them. It reminded him of Mike and Fi and how they danced around their feelings for so long, hurting themselves and their friends and family. As long as Mike stayed away from the CIA, Fi would be happy. They both deserved that.

Don't I deserve that too? He thought about the letter he'd received shortly before that fateful Thanksgiving day. It was short and in legalese told Sam that he was a free man. His ex was officially an ex. Elsa was never able to enjoy that status the way he would have liked, but maybe some day, some other woman would. Maybe even Diana.

* * *

_Thanks for reading my take on a Mike-less universe, at least temporarily. I was thinking of writing a series of stories like a Sam Axe spinoff, but I decided after getting into this one that a standalone story would suffice._

_This is my last fanfic for awhile. As it is November 1, I will be participating in NaNoWriMo. With the constraints of working again, I won't have the time to write fanfiction and my novel, so there won't be any new BN fanfic until December. Until then, enjoy what I've already written. Like USA has its 6-week Burn Notice break, mine will be almost as long. And as long as the ideas return, I will continue to write BN fanfic. See you next month!_


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